I wish I could dance like this:
Isn't that awesome???
I want to dance like that.
Seriously. Will someone teach me and/or learn with me? I mean maybe not this complicated, obviously. But damn. I would LOVE to learn to dance.
...I'm going to do it.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Belly Button Complex
So, as so often happens with friends when you're sitting around shootin' the shit...you end up talking about belly buttons. As was the case today when I was sitting around shootin' the shit with some co-workers. And as you may imagine, it's pretty much inevitable when you're conversating about belly buttons to talk about inies/outies. Sometimes, in life, aside from when you're specifically conversating about belly buttons, people will ask, "Hey, are you an inie or an outie?" I guess as a means to uphold or have an interesting conversation. Usually, it's awkward when this happens.
At any rate, the inie/outie question is always difficult for me to answer.
My belly button is not an inie.
My belly button is not an outie.
My belly button can't make up it's freakin' mind.
My belly button is like a little knob inside a little hole.
And basically has the attitude of an angry teenager, "I'm different and I don't care!!! You can't label me! You're the man! And I'm not going to let the man keep me down (or rather, in or out)!"
I've never had a problem with my belly button as a kid. But as I grew up and started wearing two-piece bathing suits, or felt comfortable enough with friends to show them my belly button when the "inie/outie" question came up...I got a lot of cocked headed looks and replies of, "That's weird."
Now I have a Belly Button Complex.
I mean, I not ashamed of my belly button. I just don't have the belly button confidence that people who are totally inies or outies do. I don't like to flaunt my belly button. That's why I avoid situations where I'd have to show my belly button...
Hence the reason I didn't pursue my dream of being a Britney Spears backup dancer.
Hence the reason I don't belly dance.
Hence the reason I am not the cover of Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition.
I don't wear clothes that show off my belly button because of my belly button complex. It's not that I think ultra-ultra low rise jeans coupled with a mid-riff shirt is tacky...it's that I have a belly button complex. I would LOVE to be able to dress with my belly hanging out.
But alas, my belly button is "weird" and needs to stay hidden from society. Kind of like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. So I've named my belly button Quasimodo. It's pretty fitting, I think. It looks kind of freak-ish, but really wouldn't harm a fly.
...Sorry if that was way more info than you ever wanted to know about my belly button.
At any rate, the inie/outie question is always difficult for me to answer.
My belly button is not an inie.
My belly button is not an outie.
My belly button can't make up it's freakin' mind.
My belly button is like a little knob inside a little hole.
And basically has the attitude of an angry teenager, "I'm different and I don't care!!! You can't label me! You're the man! And I'm not going to let the man keep me down (or rather, in or out)!"
I've never had a problem with my belly button as a kid. But as I grew up and started wearing two-piece bathing suits, or felt comfortable enough with friends to show them my belly button when the "inie/outie" question came up...I got a lot of cocked headed looks and replies of, "That's weird."
Now I have a Belly Button Complex.
I mean, I not ashamed of my belly button. I just don't have the belly button confidence that people who are totally inies or outies do. I don't like to flaunt my belly button. That's why I avoid situations where I'd have to show my belly button...
Hence the reason I didn't pursue my dream of being a Britney Spears backup dancer.
Hence the reason I don't belly dance.
Hence the reason I am not the cover of Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition.
I don't wear clothes that show off my belly button because of my belly button complex. It's not that I think ultra-ultra low rise jeans coupled with a mid-riff shirt is tacky...it's that I have a belly button complex. I would LOVE to be able to dress with my belly hanging out.
But alas, my belly button is "weird" and needs to stay hidden from society. Kind of like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. So I've named my belly button Quasimodo. It's pretty fitting, I think. It looks kind of freak-ish, but really wouldn't harm a fly.
...Sorry if that was way more info than you ever wanted to know about my belly button.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Little Brother in the Big World
So my brother is doing this thing called going to college. He's younger than me and as you might imagine I'm rather protective of him. My official title is his "sister-mom." I get a lot eye rolls from him needless to say. In regards to college, I told him I wasn't going to tell him not to party but just to, "be careful."
He told me once, "Aim! I think you have a disease! You worry too much. Seriously, you like have a disease. Chill out. I'll be fine. Nothing bad is going to happen. Jeez, Aim. Gosh." Next time you see me ask me to do the brother impression for you. It sounds nothing like him, but it's kind of funny.
Anyway.
So, I was facebook stalking him the other day. And I found this picture of him:
I am so proud!!! Notice how my brother is the only one with a book in his lap! School is for learning. Good job brother!!!!
I however, was less charmed by this picture:
Good job brother. Now this picture is on facebook and future employers will see it and not want to give a job. Way to ruin your life. Well, at least he's got a pencil in his hand and not...a bong. But still, brother. Lay off the profane gestures. Or you won't get a job. Ever.
...See? I don't worry too much.
QUOTE OF THE DAY
(Re: Baked Potato Soup Day at Panera)
AMY: Is it B.P.S. time yet?
DAVID: B.P.S. B. P. fuckin' S.
(Pause)
DAVID: B.P.F.S. I'm going to say that all the time now.
DAVID: And I was like...bitch gets a bonus.
(Pause)
(Pause)
DAVID: You should have a shirt that says that, "Bitch gets a bonus."
He told me once, "Aim! I think you have a disease! You worry too much. Seriously, you like have a disease. Chill out. I'll be fine. Nothing bad is going to happen. Jeez, Aim. Gosh." Next time you see me ask me to do the brother impression for you. It sounds nothing like him, but it's kind of funny.
Anyway.
So, I was facebook stalking him the other day. And I found this picture of him:
I am so proud!!! Notice how my brother is the only one with a book in his lap! School is for learning. Good job brother!!!!
I however, was less charmed by this picture:
Good job brother. Now this picture is on facebook and future employers will see it and not want to give a job. Way to ruin your life. Well, at least he's got a pencil in his hand and not...a bong. But still, brother. Lay off the profane gestures. Or you won't get a job. Ever.
...See? I don't worry too much.
QUOTE OF THE DAY
(Re: Baked Potato Soup Day at Panera)
AMY: Is it B.P.S. time yet?
DAVID: B.P.S. B. P. fuckin' S.
(Pause)
DAVID: B.P.F.S. I'm going to say that all the time now.
DAVID: And I was like...bitch gets a bonus.
(Pause)
(Pause)
DAVID: You should have a shirt that says that, "Bitch gets a bonus."
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Women I Have Loved: A Timeline Through Amy's History
Ariel was my very first crush. Of course, when I had a crush on her I didn't know it was a crush. I didn't even know what I crush was. I only knew that I was five and thought she was beautiful. When every other girl my age wanted to be her, I wanted to be Flounder-her best friend.
Princess Buttercup from the movie The Princess Bride. Princess Bride was and still is one of my favorite flicks. I was literally obesessed with it when I was little. Watched it over and over and over. We used to "play" The Princess Bride and I'll let you guess who I was.
Yup,
Westley. (Duh, he got the girl AND got to wear a badass pirate costume AND knew how to sword fight. I was sold.)
Brains + Beauty + A Heart That Could Tame A Beast = Where do I sign up?
Damn, and that off-the-shoulder dress in this picture? Yowza!
Heck yes I had a crush on the Pink Power Ranger!! I challenge you to find a straight dude or budding lesbian that did NOT have a crush on her.
Just beautiful in every single way. I still have a major crush on her and I like to watch her be interviewed because her accent is gorgeous. Plus, you can just tell she's a good person. I love good people.
I had a really big crush on Jennifer Garner when the TV show Alias was big. I had fantasies about playing her ass-kicking side-kick on the show. I was just coming out when I had a crush on her, so I didn't realize what I actually wanted to do was make-out with her. I don't like her as much as I used to because I feel like she's sorta gone a little Hollywood crazy, but still...she's cute.
Zooey Deschanel as Jovie in the movie, Elf. Ok, normally I don't go for blondes but this one was just too cute to pass up. And in the movie she's got a lovely singing voice AND saves Christmas. Aw, gotta love a girl who saves Christmas. Seriously though, the girl has a really sexy voice. If you haven't seen the movie you should go rent it now just to hear her sing (plus, the movie is hilarious.)
Elphaba from Wicked. Hot. And yes, I do mean that Elphaba and not Idina Menzel. Elphaba is my kinda girl, so if I were to find her in real life I would steal her for myself post haste.
As I'm sure you're all well aware by now...Natalie Portman. But I also still love Kate Winslet real bad.
...And the answer to your question is YES I do get crushes on "real" people and not just cartoon characters or celebrities. But I have a little thing called "class" and I'm not going to be posting all the faces of every girl I've ever had a crush on. So no deep little Amy secrets for you! Move along...look for that sort of class-less trash on Paris Hilton's blog.
But not here.
Not on Amy's blog!!!!!!!!!!!!
Monday, September 24, 2007
The Hot Contest
...I love that I look cross-eyed in my picture.
I'm hotter though, right?
Right guys?
Right?
I mean...if we look so much alike what's Harry Potter got that I don't?? Huh?
Oh magical powers...
Oh a girlfriend...
Oh a flying broom and a pet owl...
...um, but I'm still hotter right? I mean I might not be able to kick the dark lord's ass but I can...uh...I can...I can...blog...Yeah that's right!! I can BLOG!! Eat that Harry freakin' Potter!! I bet you don't have a semi-awesome blog that 10s of people read! BAM!
I mean, shit, the dude isn't bad looking. I suppose I should be happy to be paid such a nice compliment that people think I look like Harry Potter and not, say, Harvey Keitel...
...although Harvey Keitel is kind of badass. I'm not badass though. Maybe Harry Potter is a good description for me because that's about as badass as I get. I'll sneak around Hogwarts after hours to gather clues to vanquish Voldemort, but you won't catch me playing dirty quidditch (sp?).
Ok, so it's not so much the "you look like Harry Potter" comment I mind. It's the sort of "you're so CUTE!!" attitude that goes along with it. Not that there's anything wrong with cute, it's just...well...I mean...I don't know. It's just that I wish I had the more suave aura of Justin Timberlake than Harry Potter. But who knows? Maybe Justin Timberlake is a giant douchebag. And I wouldn't want to be a giant douchebag.
*Sigh*
I guess I'll just have to face the fact that I'm so CUTE!!!
I'll start working on my British accent now so when auditions for Harry Potter: The Stage Musical Musicale roll around I'll be primed and prepared.
...Oh P.S. David and I called that number that random guy on the street gave me and it totally WAS for the CTA. He wasn't crazy! Well, he still mighta been crazy, but at least I can be fairly confident he wasn't talking to himself for 10 minutes on the phone.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Well, at Least if They Ever Make a Stage Version of Harry Potter...I'll Have a Part
So, I got told twice today within the span of 15 minutes that I look like Harry Potter. Twice.
INCIDENT NUMBER 1:
(I'm bartending. A lady comes up to the bar and looks at me and grins)
LADY: You just like Harry Potter.
ME: Yeah I know I get that a lot.
LADY: That's so funny. You look just like him!
ME: (Pause) (Pause)...Well I'm not. I wish I was. That would be pretty cool. But I'm not.
INCIDENT NUMBER 2:
(I'm bartending some more. Another lady walks up and looks at me and grins)
ANOTHER LADY: Boy, you're just like channeling Harry Potter tonight with that cute little suit you're wearing!!
ME: Yeah, you're the second person to say that to me tonight. Haha.
ANOTHER LADY: Well, you're much prettier than he is.
So I'm a pretty Harry Potter.
*Sigh*
I really have to ditch these glasses and get contacts again. I mean, I suppose Harry Potter ain't a bad lookin' dude and I should take the comments as compliments. But here's what I REALLY wish someone had come up to me and said:
ANYONE: Oh my God. You are totally bringing sexyback.
QUOTE OF THE DAY
(Re: the cute gays boys he was flirting with tonight. They asked him what his favorite musical was, and he said he couldn't answer that question. I told him he should think of one to say, go right up to one of the boys, pull him gently over to him by the arm and whisper the name of his favorite musical in his ear. If you're going to flirt you gotta do it right, right? Not that I would ever have the guts to do it like that, but when I flirt with people in my head...that's how I flirt. However in reality I am much to awkward to ever pull anything like this off and have it be appealing.) ANYWAY back to the quote...
DAVID: Amy wants me to go over and whipser the name of my favorite musical in his ear.
AMY: Well thats what you have to do if you want to flirt!! Anytime a cute anybody asks you your favorite something, you have to say, "Hm. Let me think about it. I'll get back to you." And then, you wait a while and when they least expect it, walk over to them, pull them gently to you, lean in and whisper whatever your favorite something is in their ear. Hopefully whatever you say will be something clever and sexy. Trust me, it's hot.
DAVID: Yeah, but someone could ask you what's your favorite something and it could be totally unsexy. Like, "What's your favorite kind of potato chip?" And you walk over later and whipser in their ear, "Sour Cream and Onion.' That's not hot.
INCIDENT NUMBER 1:
(I'm bartending. A lady comes up to the bar and looks at me and grins)
LADY: You just like Harry Potter.
ME: Yeah I know I get that a lot.
LADY: That's so funny. You look just like him!
ME: (Pause) (Pause)...Well I'm not. I wish I was. That would be pretty cool. But I'm not.
INCIDENT NUMBER 2:
(I'm bartending some more. Another lady walks up and looks at me and grins)
ANOTHER LADY: Boy, you're just like channeling Harry Potter tonight with that cute little suit you're wearing!!
ME: Yeah, you're the second person to say that to me tonight. Haha.
ANOTHER LADY: Well, you're much prettier than he is.
So I'm a pretty Harry Potter.
*Sigh*
I really have to ditch these glasses and get contacts again. I mean, I suppose Harry Potter ain't a bad lookin' dude and I should take the comments as compliments. But here's what I REALLY wish someone had come up to me and said:
ANYONE: Oh my God. You are totally bringing sexyback.
QUOTE OF THE DAY
(Re: the cute gays boys he was flirting with tonight. They asked him what his favorite musical was, and he said he couldn't answer that question. I told him he should think of one to say, go right up to one of the boys, pull him gently over to him by the arm and whisper the name of his favorite musical in his ear. If you're going to flirt you gotta do it right, right? Not that I would ever have the guts to do it like that, but when I flirt with people in my head...that's how I flirt. However in reality I am much to awkward to ever pull anything like this off and have it be appealing.) ANYWAY back to the quote...
DAVID: Amy wants me to go over and whipser the name of my favorite musical in his ear.
AMY: Well thats what you have to do if you want to flirt!! Anytime a cute anybody asks you your favorite something, you have to say, "Hm. Let me think about it. I'll get back to you." And then, you wait a while and when they least expect it, walk over to them, pull them gently to you, lean in and whisper whatever your favorite something is in their ear. Hopefully whatever you say will be something clever and sexy. Trust me, it's hot.
DAVID: Yeah, but someone could ask you what's your favorite something and it could be totally unsexy. Like, "What's your favorite kind of potato chip?" And you walk over later and whipser in their ear, "Sour Cream and Onion.' That's not hot.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Overheard on the Street
MOM (to small child): Jenny, if I would love nothing more than to get you a pet penguin. But it's just not possible.
It's little moments like this that make me believe in the existence of God. And that he/she has a sense of humor.
Awesome.
It's little moments like this that make me believe in the existence of God. And that he/she has a sense of humor.
Awesome.
In Love...AGAIN/I Should Get A Dog/Men of Steel
So, I am in love with this song:
It's from the movie Once. Maybe I should see it.
So I'm thinking instead of getting hung up on getting a girlfriend...I should just get a dog.
That sounds way more horrible than I meant it to sound.
But I stopped by my house and saw my dog, Molly, today and she just about turned black flips she was so happy to see me. When she wags her tail, she's so little that her entire body shakes and it is just about the cutest thing ever. It's just really nice to go home and have her be like, "OMG!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU'RE HOME!!!!! SIT DOWN RIGHT NOW!! I HAVE TO JUMP ALL OVER YOU AND TELL YOU ALL ABOUT THIS SQUIRREL I SAW THE OTHER DAY!!!! AHHHHHH!!! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! YOU'RE HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PET ME! PET ME! PET ME! PET ME!!!! SCRATCH MY BELLY! BELLY! BELLY!!! YOU'RE HOME!! YOU'RE HOME!! I LOVE YOU!!! I LOVE YOU!!! I LOVE YOU!!! I HAVE TO LICK YOUR FACE!!! LET ME LICK YOUR FACE!! (Ok, disclaimer: I don't really like it when she licks my face. It's a little gross. Her breath is bad. But still.) OMG!!! YOU'RE HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Haha.
I love my dog.
And you know what?
My dog loves me.
Aw.
We're cute.
Haha...all the scary right-wing nuts who don't want gay marriage always defend their position by saying "If we allow gays to marry, why then people will be wanting to marry their DOGS or other animals!!"
Well right-wingers, you were right...I want to marry my dog. How do you like them apples??
So I saw this show called Men of Steel last night. It was a Theatre Wit production at The Theatre Building.
OK. Know how popular all those comic-book action movie are? This show attempted to put that onstage with a more synthesized message. It was rather ambitious. The scenic design was ingenious (when it worked), sound and lights were also fabulous. Costumes were pretty cool too.
It was hard to tell though if I was supposed to totally buy into the "comic book" world or not...because there were moments where I was completely and totally taken out of it. And I realize that certain things can just not be done on the stage...like...slow motion blackflips. And they solved the problem by putting stagehands all in black head to toe and then they helped the person slow-motion flip over backwards. Which was cool. And paired with well timed and lights and sound, looked awesome. BUT it also came across as kind of funny. And I was sure if it was supposed to be. A lot of moments were like that. Where I wasn't sure if it was meant to be funny or if I should laugh or not.
The acting was pretty good too. The fight scenes were pretty sweet, well choerographed. Parts of the show were actually very violent. I mean not just like superhero punching the bad guy "pow", but disturbing violence. Which is kind of...well...disturbing to see onstage, right in front of you.
I think probably what needs the most work is the script. I think some parts could be cut, some parts could use some clearing up. I would rework some scenes, and switch around some scenes. The other thing about the text...it beat me over the head with the point of the play. Literally. It was as if they took Captain Justice's Justice Sheild and beat me over the head with the point of the show. Which I think is a mistake if you're doing a piece comic-book style piece. Comic-books communicate through art and action. They ain't spouting shit off in a comic-book. Speech bubbles are only so big you know. And the dialouge was also really simple-like-beat-you-over-the-head. Case and point, when one character said, "I am humanity." Thanks. I got it. You didn't have to tell me. You should never treat the audience like they're stupid, and not thats what this show did, I just think they wanted to make sure we REALLY got. Well, mission accomplished. I REALLY got it. I got it so much I didn't even have to think about it. Which, may be the point, but I think theatre should make you think, not do all the thinking for you. I think the show had a lot of potential. Potential to be really smart, potential to be a fabulous achievement on what can be accomplished onstage in a relatively small space. It's not quite there yet. Parts were still fun to watch. The set was cool enough for me to want to get up and run around it for a while (think fire poles, platforms to jump off of, scaffolding to climb, ladders...SUPER FUN).
At any rate...it's sweet that I'm seeing all this theatre.
I just bought tickets for The Sparrow and I'm absolutely giddy with excitement about going to see it. AHHH!!! The Sparrow! I've wanted to see it for forever.
Anyway.
Me and David are working in the box office now listening/singing RENT...
...gay.
It's from the movie Once. Maybe I should see it.
So I'm thinking instead of getting hung up on getting a girlfriend...I should just get a dog.
That sounds way more horrible than I meant it to sound.
But I stopped by my house and saw my dog, Molly, today and she just about turned black flips she was so happy to see me. When she wags her tail, she's so little that her entire body shakes and it is just about the cutest thing ever. It's just really nice to go home and have her be like, "OMG!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU'RE HOME!!!!! SIT DOWN RIGHT NOW!! I HAVE TO JUMP ALL OVER YOU AND TELL YOU ALL ABOUT THIS SQUIRREL I SAW THE OTHER DAY!!!! AHHHHHH!!! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! YOU'RE HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PET ME! PET ME! PET ME! PET ME!!!! SCRATCH MY BELLY! BELLY! BELLY!!! YOU'RE HOME!! YOU'RE HOME!! I LOVE YOU!!! I LOVE YOU!!! I LOVE YOU!!! I HAVE TO LICK YOUR FACE!!! LET ME LICK YOUR FACE!! (Ok, disclaimer: I don't really like it when she licks my face. It's a little gross. Her breath is bad. But still.) OMG!!! YOU'RE HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Haha.
I love my dog.
And you know what?
My dog loves me.
Aw.
We're cute.
Haha...all the scary right-wing nuts who don't want gay marriage always defend their position by saying "If we allow gays to marry, why then people will be wanting to marry their DOGS or other animals!!"
Well right-wingers, you were right...I want to marry my dog. How do you like them apples??
So I saw this show called Men of Steel last night. It was a Theatre Wit production at The Theatre Building.
OK. Know how popular all those comic-book action movie are? This show attempted to put that onstage with a more synthesized message. It was rather ambitious. The scenic design was ingenious (when it worked), sound and lights were also fabulous. Costumes were pretty cool too.
It was hard to tell though if I was supposed to totally buy into the "comic book" world or not...because there were moments where I was completely and totally taken out of it. And I realize that certain things can just not be done on the stage...like...slow motion blackflips. And they solved the problem by putting stagehands all in black head to toe and then they helped the person slow-motion flip over backwards. Which was cool. And paired with well timed and lights and sound, looked awesome. BUT it also came across as kind of funny. And I was sure if it was supposed to be. A lot of moments were like that. Where I wasn't sure if it was meant to be funny or if I should laugh or not.
The acting was pretty good too. The fight scenes were pretty sweet, well choerographed. Parts of the show were actually very violent. I mean not just like superhero punching the bad guy "pow", but disturbing violence. Which is kind of...well...disturbing to see onstage, right in front of you.
I think probably what needs the most work is the script. I think some parts could be cut, some parts could use some clearing up. I would rework some scenes, and switch around some scenes. The other thing about the text...it beat me over the head with the point of the play. Literally. It was as if they took Captain Justice's Justice Sheild and beat me over the head with the point of the show. Which I think is a mistake if you're doing a piece comic-book style piece. Comic-books communicate through art and action. They ain't spouting shit off in a comic-book. Speech bubbles are only so big you know. And the dialouge was also really simple-like-beat-you-over-the-head. Case and point, when one character said, "I am humanity." Thanks. I got it. You didn't have to tell me. You should never treat the audience like they're stupid, and not thats what this show did, I just think they wanted to make sure we REALLY got. Well, mission accomplished. I REALLY got it. I got it so much I didn't even have to think about it. Which, may be the point, but I think theatre should make you think, not do all the thinking for you. I think the show had a lot of potential. Potential to be really smart, potential to be a fabulous achievement on what can be accomplished onstage in a relatively small space. It's not quite there yet. Parts were still fun to watch. The set was cool enough for me to want to get up and run around it for a while (think fire poles, platforms to jump off of, scaffolding to climb, ladders...SUPER FUN).
At any rate...it's sweet that I'm seeing all this theatre.
I just bought tickets for The Sparrow and I'm absolutely giddy with excitement about going to see it. AHHH!!! The Sparrow! I've wanted to see it for forever.
Anyway.
Me and David are working in the box office now listening/singing RENT...
...gay.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Just A Post-O-Quotes
QUOTES OF THE DAY (In order of their appearance)
8:00 am in my car on my way to work. The Knights of Columbus are out on the streets taking donations for, as it stated on their yellow vests "retarded" kids. Yeah. I'm not joking. It said retarded. P.C. alert.
OLD MAN: Would you like to donate to retarded kids? (Disclaimer: His words. Not mine.)
ME: Sure. (I give him some change)
OLD MAN: Well thank you so much. (He hands me some Kights of Columbus Tootsie Rolls) Here. Take these.
ME: Oh, thanks.
OLD MAN: Do you have kids?
ME: (Laughing) Um, no.
OLD MAN: Ok, well then you eat them...(looks me up and down) you're figure is slim anyway.
ME: Um...thanks?
Gotta love creepy old men with yellow vests saying "Help Retarded Kids."
3:30-ish Box Office
DAVID: Um, can you get this pen off my desk? (Handing me the pen like it's diseased).
ME: Uh...what's wrong with it?
DAVID: It doesn't have a cap.
ME: ...Ok...
DAVID: Yeah, it's a little OCD, but it doesn't have a cap and it annoys me and I can't have it sitting on my desk.
ME: Ok. Man, I knew you didn't like pens without caps but I had no idea it was this extreme.
DAVID: Oh yeah. I just can't take it or deal with pens without caps. I used to throw them out if they didn't have caps until Carly made me start giving them to her. (I put the pen deliberately in my pen cup). Thanks.
6:50-ish Bus Stop. Man is having a long conversation with what I gathered was the CTA. He is telling them how they should route their buses. He did not work for the CTA. He was just a dude with a cell phone. Come to think of it the cell phone looked a little banged up. Maybe he was actually talking to no one in his phone. But he gets off the phone and...
MAN: You just missed the bus.
ME: Oh, darn.
MAN: Don't worry another one should be here soon. I called them and told them to send another one out.
ME: Oh, ok.
MAN: Yeah, supposedly they got a new guy down there who's trying to clean up the system.
ME: Ha.
MAN: I thought so too, but they were having a meeting and when I called the meeting just got done, so I think this new general manager down there is doing a good job.
ME: Oh. Good, I hope so.
MAN: Me too. I call them a lot. I call the garage directly and not just the regular CTA number.
ME: Oh.
MAN: Here, do you have a cell phone? I'll give it to you so you can call them and let your voice be heard if you're unhappy with their service.
ME: Um, ok...(So I take out my cell phone and the guy recites it off the top of his head) Thanks.
MAN: No problem.
So, I actually did take the number down. I'm kinda curious to call it and see if it's actually the CTA or if it's just a random number this guy made up and was just crazy.
7:45-ish Theatre
DAVID: So I had this dream that the CTA would take me anywhere as long as I told them it was a "transportation emergency."
Like, "Um, does this bus go to Arlington Heights?" and the bus driver said no. And I said, "But this is a transportation emergency!! And then he took me to Arlington Heights.
11:30-ish. At home.
SARA: So have you ever seen a movie called The Elephant Man?
ME: No.
SARA: I just got it on Netflix.
ME: Yeah, it's a play too. I've never seen it or read it. I didn't know it was a movie.
SARA: Really?
ME: Yeah. If you say "Elephant Man" to me...I think "play." It won some Tonys.
SARA: Oh. Well I know it as a movie.
ME: I think it was a play first.
SARA: Actually I think it was a book first.
ME: I have no idea.
SARA: It's like what came first...the chicken or the egg? The book or the play or the movie?
ME: Well I know what came first.
SARA: What?
ME: Well, The Elephant Man.
SARA: Of course. The Elephant Man.
ME: The man.
SARA: So I guess it's really a question of what came second...
8:00 am in my car on my way to work. The Knights of Columbus are out on the streets taking donations for, as it stated on their yellow vests "retarded" kids. Yeah. I'm not joking. It said retarded. P.C. alert.
OLD MAN: Would you like to donate to retarded kids? (Disclaimer: His words. Not mine.)
ME: Sure. (I give him some change)
OLD MAN: Well thank you so much. (He hands me some Kights of Columbus Tootsie Rolls) Here. Take these.
ME: Oh, thanks.
OLD MAN: Do you have kids?
ME: (Laughing) Um, no.
OLD MAN: Ok, well then you eat them...(looks me up and down) you're figure is slim anyway.
ME: Um...thanks?
Gotta love creepy old men with yellow vests saying "Help Retarded Kids."
3:30-ish Box Office
DAVID: Um, can you get this pen off my desk? (Handing me the pen like it's diseased).
ME: Uh...what's wrong with it?
DAVID: It doesn't have a cap.
ME: ...Ok...
DAVID: Yeah, it's a little OCD, but it doesn't have a cap and it annoys me and I can't have it sitting on my desk.
ME: Ok. Man, I knew you didn't like pens without caps but I had no idea it was this extreme.
DAVID: Oh yeah. I just can't take it or deal with pens without caps. I used to throw them out if they didn't have caps until Carly made me start giving them to her. (I put the pen deliberately in my pen cup). Thanks.
6:50-ish Bus Stop. Man is having a long conversation with what I gathered was the CTA. He is telling them how they should route their buses. He did not work for the CTA. He was just a dude with a cell phone. Come to think of it the cell phone looked a little banged up. Maybe he was actually talking to no one in his phone. But he gets off the phone and...
MAN: You just missed the bus.
ME: Oh, darn.
MAN: Don't worry another one should be here soon. I called them and told them to send another one out.
ME: Oh, ok.
MAN: Yeah, supposedly they got a new guy down there who's trying to clean up the system.
ME: Ha.
MAN: I thought so too, but they were having a meeting and when I called the meeting just got done, so I think this new general manager down there is doing a good job.
ME: Oh. Good, I hope so.
MAN: Me too. I call them a lot. I call the garage directly and not just the regular CTA number.
ME: Oh.
MAN: Here, do you have a cell phone? I'll give it to you so you can call them and let your voice be heard if you're unhappy with their service.
ME: Um, ok...(So I take out my cell phone and the guy recites it off the top of his head) Thanks.
MAN: No problem.
So, I actually did take the number down. I'm kinda curious to call it and see if it's actually the CTA or if it's just a random number this guy made up and was just crazy.
7:45-ish Theatre
DAVID: So I had this dream that the CTA would take me anywhere as long as I told them it was a "transportation emergency."
Like, "Um, does this bus go to Arlington Heights?" and the bus driver said no. And I said, "But this is a transportation emergency!! And then he took me to Arlington Heights.
11:30-ish. At home.
SARA: So have you ever seen a movie called The Elephant Man?
ME: No.
SARA: I just got it on Netflix.
ME: Yeah, it's a play too. I've never seen it or read it. I didn't know it was a movie.
SARA: Really?
ME: Yeah. If you say "Elephant Man" to me...I think "play." It won some Tonys.
SARA: Oh. Well I know it as a movie.
ME: I think it was a play first.
SARA: Actually I think it was a book first.
ME: I have no idea.
SARA: It's like what came first...the chicken or the egg? The book or the play or the movie?
ME: Well I know what came first.
SARA: What?
ME: Well, The Elephant Man.
SARA: Of course. The Elephant Man.
ME: The man.
SARA: So I guess it's really a question of what came second...
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Gorilla vs. Leopard
Ok guys, so I went on to youtube to try and find a clip of the show I saw about Giant Squids, because I realized how nerdy I sounded in the last post and wanted to prove how awesome it was (REALLY it was). But I couldn't find what I was looking for. And as usual with youtube, if you don't find what you're looking for, you usually find something equally, if not more awesome.
And it is so once more:
I stumbled upon buttloads of crappily animated animal death matches, the first being giant squid vs. sperm whale. It was good, but not quite as tight at this one right here.
I find it both disturbing and awesome that the gorilla kills the leopard by cracking it's spine. And that you pretty much see the leopard get cracked in half and that it's accompained by a horrible sound effect.
The thing I find most hilarious about this clip is that it's narrated by a British dude. As such, for a second you kind of believe that the death match, if not actually real because it's animated, is a least a close depiction of what would happen if a gorilla and leopard met. I mean, anything sounds reputable if narrated by a British dude. I espeically love the sequence where they show the muscles under the skin of the gorilla and leopard. That made me understand the deathmatch SO much better.
I think this show was made by a 13 year old boy who kind of knew how to make animations on a computer in 1993. Really, it was like watching someone play Donkey Kong. I half expected the British dude to say, "Right, so where the leopard went wrong in failing to dodge the barrell thrown by the gorilla. Looks like another fight well fought for the gorilla. The gorilla will live another day to throw barrells to protect itself from predators like upright walking alligators. It will continue to horde bananas with his pal Diddy Kong. And maybe one day, if we're lucky he will realize how unfashionable his red tie is. We can only hope, friends. I hope you've enjoyed this weeks episode of Masterpiece Theatre's Animal Deathmatch. Unitl then, I'm British, so you can believe everything I say. Chip, chip cheerio!"
P.S. The dramatic, electronic-keyboard made score that goes with this clip is also very comendable.
P.P.S. Slo-Mo, always awesome.
P.P.P.S. Really, someone should have given the gorilla a big, shiny gold belt like a pro-wrestler after this match.
And it is so once more:
I stumbled upon buttloads of crappily animated animal death matches, the first being giant squid vs. sperm whale. It was good, but not quite as tight at this one right here.
I find it both disturbing and awesome that the gorilla kills the leopard by cracking it's spine. And that you pretty much see the leopard get cracked in half and that it's accompained by a horrible sound effect.
The thing I find most hilarious about this clip is that it's narrated by a British dude. As such, for a second you kind of believe that the death match, if not actually real because it's animated, is a least a close depiction of what would happen if a gorilla and leopard met. I mean, anything sounds reputable if narrated by a British dude. I espeically love the sequence where they show the muscles under the skin of the gorilla and leopard. That made me understand the deathmatch SO much better.
I think this show was made by a 13 year old boy who kind of knew how to make animations on a computer in 1993. Really, it was like watching someone play Donkey Kong. I half expected the British dude to say, "Right, so where the leopard went wrong in failing to dodge the barrell thrown by the gorilla. Looks like another fight well fought for the gorilla. The gorilla will live another day to throw barrells to protect itself from predators like upright walking alligators. It will continue to horde bananas with his pal Diddy Kong. And maybe one day, if we're lucky he will realize how unfashionable his red tie is. We can only hope, friends. I hope you've enjoyed this weeks episode of Masterpiece Theatre's Animal Deathmatch. Unitl then, I'm British, so you can believe everything I say. Chip, chip cheerio!"
P.S. The dramatic, electronic-keyboard made score that goes with this clip is also very comendable.
P.P.S. Slo-Mo, always awesome.
P.P.P.S. Really, someone should have given the gorilla a big, shiny gold belt like a pro-wrestler after this match.
Paper on 17th Century Virginia or Blog?...Clearly: BLOG
So with the advent of the new school year one thing is certain...you can either count on less blogs from me because I'll be really busy or more blogs for me as I procrastinate. I would venture to state that there will be more blogs as I procrastinate because the majority of my classes this semester are gen eds. Case and point, today I have to write a short paper (literally 2-4 pages, literally could write it in my sleep) on 17th century Virginia. But I find myself here instead.
Now, like I've said before I really love any kind of learning. I find lots of things interesting; if I'm watching TV you can pretty much count on the Travel channel, the History channel, or the Discovery channel playing. No joke, ask my brother or my Dad. They make fun of me because every time they come in the room I'm either watching a documentary about dog fights in WWII, a show about the photographing the giant squid (I highly recommend it if you haven't already seen it), or something about a traveler going to visit some obscure tribe in some obscure mountain range. And since I can't hear really well, it's always on really loud, so my Dad jokes that sometimes he thinks fighter jets are dropping bombs on our house.
And I mean, part of this is probably typical of someone my age, as a senior in college...I'm just sick of having to PROVE what I've learned through papers or tests. As a student of theatre, I don't want to have to prove anything. I want to show what I can do. And I want to show what I can do through the stage.
Anyway. That rant is over.
Time to talk about what I really came here to talk about, The Holiday (the movie) with Kate Winslet, Jack Black, Jude Law, and Cameron Diaz. I'd talk about the premise of the movie, but it's really not the point.
The point is at the end of the movie Jack Black gets Kate Winslet. Let me repeat that. Jack Black:
gets Kate Winslet:
You do not understand how much hope this gives me.
Ok, so I know it's a just a movie, and maybe it could and would never happen in real life. But go with me here on this...
Jack Black is not all that sexy. I mean, maybe he is to some but classically speaking Jack Black is not the typical leading man who would get a babe like Kate Winslet.
Jack Black is short, (probably shorter than Kate Winslet) he's not built, he's dorky, he's not afraid to be totally goofy. Jack Black is not all that debonair or suave. But he gets Kate Winslet. And he doesn't use sexy powers to get her! He uses GOOFY powers!! AHHH!! THIS IS AMAZING!
You see what I'm getting at?
If Jack Black can do it, so can I!! Not to say that I'll get Kate Winslet. Last time I checked she was straight and married.
BUT
I could potentially get a babe like Kate Winslet.
I'm short. I'm awkward. I'm goofy. I'm not built. When I wear my backpack for school I look like a turtle because it's so large and I'm so small. I'm not a typically "sexy" person (Not holding my breath for Victoria's Secret to call and ask me to model) I could tell you all about how Asian Scientists photographed the giant squid in the ocean (it was a really big deal, because, at that point no one had even seen a giant squid alive.) I'll impersonate Gilda Rander for you to make you laugh. Sometimes, I can't string together sentences properly. I trip a lot. I'm not graceful. And most of the time I'm wearing a dorky, lopsided grin. (If you told me to put on a sexy-face, you would probably just end up laughing)
But watch this:
Jack Black uses his powers of goofy and Kate Winslet is TOTALLY into him.
Ok.
It's acting.
I know.
It's a movie.
I know.
But let me hold onto this hope.
Oh man. And all this time I've been frustrated by my terribly goofy and random demeanor around women, been beating myself over the fact I can't breeze into a social situation and pull off a conversation without making horrible jokes or falling over my words. But now I see that all I have to do is find the right person who thinks the female version of Jack Black is hot.
...so if anyone knows any lesbians who are single and have said, "Damn. You know what I wish? I really wish I could find a girlfriend who was like the female version of Jack Black." Let me know...STAT.
Now, like I've said before I really love any kind of learning. I find lots of things interesting; if I'm watching TV you can pretty much count on the Travel channel, the History channel, or the Discovery channel playing. No joke, ask my brother or my Dad. They make fun of me because every time they come in the room I'm either watching a documentary about dog fights in WWII, a show about the photographing the giant squid (I highly recommend it if you haven't already seen it), or something about a traveler going to visit some obscure tribe in some obscure mountain range. And since I can't hear really well, it's always on really loud, so my Dad jokes that sometimes he thinks fighter jets are dropping bombs on our house.
And I mean, part of this is probably typical of someone my age, as a senior in college...I'm just sick of having to PROVE what I've learned through papers or tests. As a student of theatre, I don't want to have to prove anything. I want to show what I can do. And I want to show what I can do through the stage.
Anyway. That rant is over.
Time to talk about what I really came here to talk about, The Holiday (the movie) with Kate Winslet, Jack Black, Jude Law, and Cameron Diaz. I'd talk about the premise of the movie, but it's really not the point.
The point is at the end of the movie Jack Black gets Kate Winslet. Let me repeat that. Jack Black:
gets Kate Winslet:
You do not understand how much hope this gives me.
Ok, so I know it's a just a movie, and maybe it could and would never happen in real life. But go with me here on this...
Jack Black is not all that sexy. I mean, maybe he is to some but classically speaking Jack Black is not the typical leading man who would get a babe like Kate Winslet.
Jack Black is short, (probably shorter than Kate Winslet) he's not built, he's dorky, he's not afraid to be totally goofy. Jack Black is not all that debonair or suave. But he gets Kate Winslet. And he doesn't use sexy powers to get her! He uses GOOFY powers!! AHHH!! THIS IS AMAZING!
You see what I'm getting at?
If Jack Black can do it, so can I!! Not to say that I'll get Kate Winslet. Last time I checked she was straight and married.
BUT
I could potentially get a babe like Kate Winslet.
I'm short. I'm awkward. I'm goofy. I'm not built. When I wear my backpack for school I look like a turtle because it's so large and I'm so small. I'm not a typically "sexy" person (Not holding my breath for Victoria's Secret to call and ask me to model) I could tell you all about how Asian Scientists photographed the giant squid in the ocean (it was a really big deal, because, at that point no one had even seen a giant squid alive.) I'll impersonate Gilda Rander for you to make you laugh. Sometimes, I can't string together sentences properly. I trip a lot. I'm not graceful. And most of the time I'm wearing a dorky, lopsided grin. (If you told me to put on a sexy-face, you would probably just end up laughing)
But watch this:
Jack Black uses his powers of goofy and Kate Winslet is TOTALLY into him.
Ok.
It's acting.
I know.
It's a movie.
I know.
But let me hold onto this hope.
Oh man. And all this time I've been frustrated by my terribly goofy and random demeanor around women, been beating myself over the fact I can't breeze into a social situation and pull off a conversation without making horrible jokes or falling over my words. But now I see that all I have to do is find the right person who thinks the female version of Jack Black is hot.
...so if anyone knows any lesbians who are single and have said, "Damn. You know what I wish? I really wish I could find a girlfriend who was like the female version of Jack Black." Let me know...STAT.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Flamingo in a Turnstile
Ok. So I read the Red Eye (free version of the Chicago Trib) this morning and stumbled across this little blurb. Here is the verbatim article:
"Flamingo gets stuck in an airport turnstile
Did you hear the one about animal expert Jack Hanna, an 11-month-old-flamingo and an airport turnstile? Hanna became trapped Sunday while trying to squeeze through the turnstile, and it took firefighters to finally get the flamingo out. Hanna, the director emeritus of the Columbus Zoo, was returning from a zoo fundraiser with a mongoose, a small leopard and the flamingo. Three other people were with them."
WHAT THE HELL??
Who just walks into a goddamn airport with a flamingo, a mongoose, and a small leopard??!!! I mean, this blurb simply didn't supply me with enough information. It just left me with more questions. Like:
Were these animals on leashes?
Or in cages?
WHY did the flamingo have to go through the turnstile? Turnstiles are for HUMANS not FLAMINGOS! OF COURSE THE FLAMINGO GOT STUCK! IF TURNSTILES WERE BUILT TO ACCOMODATE FLAMINGOS WE WOULDN'T BE HAVING THIS BLOG NOW WOULD WE??!
WHY did they not just let the flamingo bypass the turnstile? Are we really so wrapped up in National Security we had to treat this flamingo like a potential terrorist and put him through checkpoints humans have to go through? Did the airport security make him take off his shoes and belt too? Did the flamingo have a passport??
Did Jack Hanna attempt to take the flamingo through the turnstil WITH him, rather than just letting the flamingo go throught the turnstile in his own? If so, Jack Hanna...you are a dumbass. Was the flamingo like on a leash and did Jack Hanna just yank him through with him? If so, Jack Hanna...you are a jerk.
...I don't know. Maybe the situation is not as ridiculous as I picture it in my head. I just picture Jack Hanna and a flamingo (let's call him Jorge) tangled up in a turnstile, Jorge trying to free himelf, Jack Hanna screaming at it to stop fidgeting, he's only make it worse. Jorge yelling at Jack Hanna that he doesn't own him and is not the one who got them stuck in an airport turnstile and he'll fidget around as much as he damn well pleases. Then Jorge proceeds to squwak for shrimp. "Shrimp! I need shrimp! SHRIMP! Hurry! My color is fading! I'm stuck in an airport turnstile! I need shrimp!" And Jack Hanna is like, "If I could get a coke and pack of M&Ms that would be cool." And Jorge is like, "Don't bring this man shit. He got a goddamn flamingo stuck in an airport turnstile. He doesn't deserve a rice cake."
Oh yeah, where were the mongoose and small leopard during all this? Were they just haning out? They were probably in the background, trying to pretend like they know everything, telling Jack and Jorge how to get out, "Jorge, dude, just pull your wing out of...no your other wing...now Jack. JACK! Just pull your foot over your head. Now...just-" And Jorge goes, "You guys aren't helping!" And then the small leopard and mongoose get really offended. "Jeez. You try and help someone out and look how they repay you."
What happens if the mongoose runs into Snakes on a Plane? Is there like a huge shakedown? Who wins?
Oh God! This whole situation is just messing with my head! It seems to insane! AHHH!! A mongoose, a small leopard and a FLAMINGO and A JACK HANNA! In an airport. And the flamingo gets stuck in a turnstile!?
...This may be beyond my comprehension a little.
What if this whole situation was just a horrible diversion and part of a terrorist plot to inflitrate airports? Is Jack Hanna in on it? Are Jack Hanna and his flamingo Jorge terrorists?? Because while all this was going on, some of Osama's cronies snuck a nuke they bought from South Korea past the turnstile and onto a plane.
At least that's my feeling.
I really wish I had been there to see this. Although, I think what actually happened isn't as awesome as the scenario playing in my head right now.
Flamingo.
In.
A.
Turnstile.
"Flamingo gets stuck in an airport turnstile
Did you hear the one about animal expert Jack Hanna, an 11-month-old-flamingo and an airport turnstile? Hanna became trapped Sunday while trying to squeeze through the turnstile, and it took firefighters to finally get the flamingo out. Hanna, the director emeritus of the Columbus Zoo, was returning from a zoo fundraiser with a mongoose, a small leopard and the flamingo. Three other people were with them."
WHAT THE HELL??
Who just walks into a goddamn airport with a flamingo, a mongoose, and a small leopard??!!! I mean, this blurb simply didn't supply me with enough information. It just left me with more questions. Like:
Were these animals on leashes?
Or in cages?
WHY did the flamingo have to go through the turnstile? Turnstiles are for HUMANS not FLAMINGOS! OF COURSE THE FLAMINGO GOT STUCK! IF TURNSTILES WERE BUILT TO ACCOMODATE FLAMINGOS WE WOULDN'T BE HAVING THIS BLOG NOW WOULD WE??!
WHY did they not just let the flamingo bypass the turnstile? Are we really so wrapped up in National Security we had to treat this flamingo like a potential terrorist and put him through checkpoints humans have to go through? Did the airport security make him take off his shoes and belt too? Did the flamingo have a passport??
Did Jack Hanna attempt to take the flamingo through the turnstil WITH him, rather than just letting the flamingo go throught the turnstile in his own? If so, Jack Hanna...you are a dumbass. Was the flamingo like on a leash and did Jack Hanna just yank him through with him? If so, Jack Hanna...you are a jerk.
...I don't know. Maybe the situation is not as ridiculous as I picture it in my head. I just picture Jack Hanna and a flamingo (let's call him Jorge) tangled up in a turnstile, Jorge trying to free himelf, Jack Hanna screaming at it to stop fidgeting, he's only make it worse. Jorge yelling at Jack Hanna that he doesn't own him and is not the one who got them stuck in an airport turnstile and he'll fidget around as much as he damn well pleases. Then Jorge proceeds to squwak for shrimp. "Shrimp! I need shrimp! SHRIMP! Hurry! My color is fading! I'm stuck in an airport turnstile! I need shrimp!" And Jack Hanna is like, "If I could get a coke and pack of M&Ms that would be cool." And Jorge is like, "Don't bring this man shit. He got a goddamn flamingo stuck in an airport turnstile. He doesn't deserve a rice cake."
Oh yeah, where were the mongoose and small leopard during all this? Were they just haning out? They were probably in the background, trying to pretend like they know everything, telling Jack and Jorge how to get out, "Jorge, dude, just pull your wing out of...no your other wing...now Jack. JACK! Just pull your foot over your head. Now...just-" And Jorge goes, "You guys aren't helping!" And then the small leopard and mongoose get really offended. "Jeez. You try and help someone out and look how they repay you."
What happens if the mongoose runs into Snakes on a Plane? Is there like a huge shakedown? Who wins?
Oh God! This whole situation is just messing with my head! It seems to insane! AHHH!! A mongoose, a small leopard and a FLAMINGO and A JACK HANNA! In an airport. And the flamingo gets stuck in a turnstile!?
...This may be beyond my comprehension a little.
What if this whole situation was just a horrible diversion and part of a terrorist plot to inflitrate airports? Is Jack Hanna in on it? Are Jack Hanna and his flamingo Jorge terrorists?? Because while all this was going on, some of Osama's cronies snuck a nuke they bought from South Korea past the turnstile and onto a plane.
At least that's my feeling.
I really wish I had been there to see this. Although, I think what actually happened isn't as awesome as the scenario playing in my head right now.
Flamingo.
In.
A.
Turnstile.
Monday, September 17, 2007
The Post You've All Been Waiting For...I'm In LOVE!!!
So, I am totally in Love.
I have everything I ever wanted and desired...
Sweet,
Spicy,
and a Kick to pick me up when I need it.
I am in love with the Mexican Lattes from Kopi Cafe.
Mexican Hot Chocolate + Espresso = Fabulous.
*Sigh*
I think if the Mexican Latte manifested itself as a person, I would have the love of my life.
Um, so hey, Fairy Godmother? Remember that one time when you made a pumpkin into a coach and mice into ponies for that one girl, Cinderella? Do you think maybe you could turn my Mexican Latte into the love of my life? Extra points if it comes without the midnight expiration date. Thanks Fairy Godmother!
P.S. If you could also make me hotter like you did for Cinderella that would be awesome. I'm thinking...maybe like 3 more inches? Fablous hair, clear skin, and a more mature look so I don't get mistaken for a 13 year old? Oooo...and can you wave your magic wand and give me lasik so I never have to wear my Harry Potter glasses again? Ooo...and how about improving my hearing so I don't have to get hearing aides? OOOO! And Fairy Godmother??? Can you give me some hot/sexy dance moves that are hot/sexy and NOT socially awkward (think Justin Timberlake)? OOOOOO!!! AND Fairy Godmother??? Can I play guitar and sing so as to make all the girls swoon??
I know that's a lot to ask, Fairy Godmother. But I have faith in you.
I mean, shit, look what you did for Cinderella.
One minute she's her step mother's bitch, the next she's in the arms of a frickin' prince.
I'm not asking for a prince.
...just thought I'd point that out.
Anytime you're ready to show up is cool with me. I'll be here all night.
P.P.S. Fairy Godmother, have you been working out because you look fabulous!!! Just thought I'd mention that.
I have everything I ever wanted and desired...
Sweet,
Spicy,
and a Kick to pick me up when I need it.
I am in love with the Mexican Lattes from Kopi Cafe.
Mexican Hot Chocolate + Espresso = Fabulous.
*Sigh*
I think if the Mexican Latte manifested itself as a person, I would have the love of my life.
Um, so hey, Fairy Godmother? Remember that one time when you made a pumpkin into a coach and mice into ponies for that one girl, Cinderella? Do you think maybe you could turn my Mexican Latte into the love of my life? Extra points if it comes without the midnight expiration date. Thanks Fairy Godmother!
P.S. If you could also make me hotter like you did for Cinderella that would be awesome. I'm thinking...maybe like 3 more inches? Fablous hair, clear skin, and a more mature look so I don't get mistaken for a 13 year old? Oooo...and can you wave your magic wand and give me lasik so I never have to wear my Harry Potter glasses again? Ooo...and how about improving my hearing so I don't have to get hearing aides? OOOO! And Fairy Godmother??? Can you give me some hot/sexy dance moves that are hot/sexy and NOT socially awkward (think Justin Timberlake)? OOOOOO!!! AND Fairy Godmother??? Can I play guitar and sing so as to make all the girls swoon??
I know that's a lot to ask, Fairy Godmother. But I have faith in you.
I mean, shit, look what you did for Cinderella.
One minute she's her step mother's bitch, the next she's in the arms of a frickin' prince.
I'm not asking for a prince.
...just thought I'd point that out.
Anytime you're ready to show up is cool with me. I'll be here all night.
P.P.S. Fairy Godmother, have you been working out because you look fabulous!!! Just thought I'd mention that.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
An Astrological Frame Of Mind
So lately I've been checking my horoscopes a lot. I don't really know why. I'm not sure how much of that stuff I believe or whatever. And I don't even get really official horoscopes.
Basically, what I'm trying to say, is checking my horoscope consists of rolling my mouse over the drop-down "horoscope" box on my yahoo welcome page.
I guess I just like to know if there's anything I need to know for that day. Like, it could be beneficial to know, "Today you'll be hit by a bus." Or, "The Sushi chef who you'll order sushi from today doesn't have a steady hand. Stay away from the puffer fish." Or, "The cute girl you'll meet today is cute, but she's also crazy. Better not give her your phone number. Or real name."
That kind of info would be helpful.
Most of the time though it's like, "An open heart and mind is worth a bird in the clouds. Keep that in mind today."
What the hell does that mean?
Well, it means anything you want it to mean, which is why people are like, "Oh man, my horoscope was SO right today. An open heart and mind IS worth a bird in the clouds. I'm so glad I knew that before I bought that new microwave and went with the toaster oven instead."
Well, today I read my horoscope. Here's what it said:
"Your enthusiasm can make things happen. Don't keep all that power to yourself."
And I'm going to make it mean exactly what I want to mean...
I have the enthusiastic power to make Natalie Portman my girlfriend.
AND/OR
I have the enthusiastic power to make "High School Musical: Gay-er And More Fabulous Than Ever Before" a reality.
...suddenly all my dreams are so very very palpable.
Thank you yahoo horoscopes. For giving me the little push I needed to come to this epiphany.
QUOTE OF THE DAY
(David trying to figure what to make us for dinner Monday night before we go see a show)
DAVID: Do you like rice?
ME: Yes.
DAVID: Do you like beans?
ME: Yes.
DAVID: Do you like poo?
ME: Uh, no.
DAVID: Well what's like your favorite food?
ME: I don't really have a favorite I just love food. If it's well made and delicious then-
DAVID: Oh, now I'm scared, you're a food snob.
ME: I am not! It doesn't have to be fabulous. The most important ingredient in a meal is love. I truly believe that.
DAVID: That's the gayest thing you've ever said.
Basically, what I'm trying to say, is checking my horoscope consists of rolling my mouse over the drop-down "horoscope" box on my yahoo welcome page.
I guess I just like to know if there's anything I need to know for that day. Like, it could be beneficial to know, "Today you'll be hit by a bus." Or, "The Sushi chef who you'll order sushi from today doesn't have a steady hand. Stay away from the puffer fish." Or, "The cute girl you'll meet today is cute, but she's also crazy. Better not give her your phone number. Or real name."
That kind of info would be helpful.
Most of the time though it's like, "An open heart and mind is worth a bird in the clouds. Keep that in mind today."
What the hell does that mean?
Well, it means anything you want it to mean, which is why people are like, "Oh man, my horoscope was SO right today. An open heart and mind IS worth a bird in the clouds. I'm so glad I knew that before I bought that new microwave and went with the toaster oven instead."
Well, today I read my horoscope. Here's what it said:
"Your enthusiasm can make things happen. Don't keep all that power to yourself."
And I'm going to make it mean exactly what I want to mean...
I have the enthusiastic power to make Natalie Portman my girlfriend.
AND/OR
I have the enthusiastic power to make "High School Musical: Gay-er And More Fabulous Than Ever Before" a reality.
...suddenly all my dreams are so very very palpable.
Thank you yahoo horoscopes. For giving me the little push I needed to come to this epiphany.
QUOTE OF THE DAY
(David trying to figure what to make us for dinner Monday night before we go see a show)
DAVID: Do you like rice?
ME: Yes.
DAVID: Do you like beans?
ME: Yes.
DAVID: Do you like poo?
ME: Uh, no.
DAVID: Well what's like your favorite food?
ME: I don't really have a favorite I just love food. If it's well made and delicious then-
DAVID: Oh, now I'm scared, you're a food snob.
ME: I am not! It doesn't have to be fabulous. The most important ingredient in a meal is love. I truly believe that.
DAVID: That's the gayest thing you've ever said.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Not Allowed
These are walkie talkies.
We use them at work.
One for the stage manager.
One for the box.
One for the bartenders.
One for the house managers.
It keeps us in communication so if there's a problem we don't have to go looking for each other.
However.
I am not allowed to use them because I don't use them for official business. We only had the walkie talkies one day before my walkie talkie rights were revoked. Probably because I say things to the house manager like, "Breaker, Breaker, this is mongoose 9 are all the hens in the henhouse? Breaker, Breaker, do you copy? Over"
Sometimes, being mentally 9 years old is hard.
Amy's High School Musical
So I was thinking...if I don't get a chance to produce my gay-er version of High School Musical, or if I don't get a chance to produce "High School Musical's Spring Awakening" maybe I could write my own High School Musical. A High School Musical based on my own high school experiences.
Hmm...
Here's a song list:
1) When My Boyfriend Puts His Hand on My Knee, It Makes Me Feel Uncomfortable (Am I Gay?...No Way)
2) I Just Got Cast In The Musical as a Boy And I'm Really Excited About It (Could I be Gay...Naw)
3) We Can Dress Up As Old Movie Stars? I Call James Cagney! (Holy crap...I'm in drag!...Am I gay?...Nooooo, Couldn't Be. That's Crazy!)
4) Please Don't Let My Boyfriend Kiss Me/Gotta Jump Out of the Car Before He Can (What's Wrong With Me?...I Don't Think I'm Straight)
5) A Girl I Have A Strong Admiration For Just Grabbed My Arm and I Felt All Tingle-y Inside (Does This Mean I'm Gay?)
6) Oh God I'm Gay (Crap. I Knew It All Along)
7) Telling Your Ex-Boyfriend/Best Friend You're Gay Is Hard To Do
8) Thank God For the Internet. Google "How To Come Out" Rule of Thumb: Don't Come Out in a Moving Vehicle. Well Noted.
9) Mom, I Think...Maybe...I Think Maybe...It's a Kind Of Possibility...That I Sort Of Could...That I Sort Of Could Maybe Possibly Think That I'm Gay.
10) She Asked Me To Not Give Up On Boys. So I won't Give Up on Boys Even Though I've Already Given Up On Boys.
12) I Can't Wait for Graduation So I Can Go To College
13) In College I Hear Lesbians Rain From The Sky
14) What If My Roommate's Gay and We Fall In Love?
And The Finale...
15) I'm Gay, I'm Gay and I Don't Care Who Knows It (But Maybe I Shouldn't Sing This Song So Loudly)
...oh, High School. I'm glad you're over.
So Audra sent me this quiz to do to figure out what my "rising sign" is from this astrology website. But you had to join the website to take the quiz. So now almost everyday, I get little emails from this place. I just delete them, but they're kind of funny. Here are some that I've received in the past few days:
-Will You Fall in Love? (Ok, I can't lie, I opened this one. But they wanted money. I kinda thought there would just be a yes/no type of thing in the email. But it was like: Give us money for your FREE reading. Um. I don't like the sound of that.)
-Ride the Road To Wisdom
-Make Beautiful Numerals Together (This one sounded dirty. So I deleted it straight-away)
QUOTE OF THE DAY (all of the following come from conversations today in the box office)
MAN: Do you have any tickets for tonight?
ME: I've only got one left.
MAN: One? You're kidding me! Well, can my girlfriend just sit in my lap?
ME: Unfortunately, no.
MAN: Who buys one ticket? Who goes alone?
ME: Well, we actually had two earlier this morning, so...someone.
MAN: Hell, maybe I should buy that other ticket. Maybe it's a lonely woman. Leave my girlfriend at home. Ha. Well, my luck it will be a gay man.
WOMAN AT WINDOW WITH BOOBS HANGING OUT A BAD FAKE TAN AND PEROXIDE BLONDE HAIR AND A LEOPARD PRINT SHIRT: Um, hi...is there a drug store in walking distance that has uh...like...that would sell...um...that would sell..like...uhh...adult products too?
WHAT I WANTED TO SAY: You mean like rubbers and lube? (Haha...that was really vulgar)
WHAT I DID SAY: There's a Jewel-Osco across the street.
WOMAN AT THE WINDOW: We, of course, have our tickets for High School Musical...
(Phone rings)
ME: Box Office, this is Amy how may I help you?
MAN ON PHONE: You're looking good today.
Hmm...
Here's a song list:
1) When My Boyfriend Puts His Hand on My Knee, It Makes Me Feel Uncomfortable (Am I Gay?...No Way)
2) I Just Got Cast In The Musical as a Boy And I'm Really Excited About It (Could I be Gay...Naw)
3) We Can Dress Up As Old Movie Stars? I Call James Cagney! (Holy crap...I'm in drag!...Am I gay?...Nooooo, Couldn't Be. That's Crazy!)
4) Please Don't Let My Boyfriend Kiss Me/Gotta Jump Out of the Car Before He Can (What's Wrong With Me?...I Don't Think I'm Straight)
5) A Girl I Have A Strong Admiration For Just Grabbed My Arm and I Felt All Tingle-y Inside (Does This Mean I'm Gay?)
6) Oh God I'm Gay (Crap. I Knew It All Along)
7) Telling Your Ex-Boyfriend/Best Friend You're Gay Is Hard To Do
8) Thank God For the Internet. Google "How To Come Out" Rule of Thumb: Don't Come Out in a Moving Vehicle. Well Noted.
9) Mom, I Think...Maybe...I Think Maybe...It's a Kind Of Possibility...That I Sort Of Could...That I Sort Of Could Maybe Possibly Think That I'm Gay.
10) She Asked Me To Not Give Up On Boys. So I won't Give Up on Boys Even Though I've Already Given Up On Boys.
12) I Can't Wait for Graduation So I Can Go To College
13) In College I Hear Lesbians Rain From The Sky
14) What If My Roommate's Gay and We Fall In Love?
And The Finale...
15) I'm Gay, I'm Gay and I Don't Care Who Knows It (But Maybe I Shouldn't Sing This Song So Loudly)
...oh, High School. I'm glad you're over.
So Audra sent me this quiz to do to figure out what my "rising sign" is from this astrology website. But you had to join the website to take the quiz. So now almost everyday, I get little emails from this place. I just delete them, but they're kind of funny. Here are some that I've received in the past few days:
-Will You Fall in Love? (Ok, I can't lie, I opened this one. But they wanted money. I kinda thought there would just be a yes/no type of thing in the email. But it was like: Give us money for your FREE reading. Um. I don't like the sound of that.)
-Ride the Road To Wisdom
-Make Beautiful Numerals Together (This one sounded dirty. So I deleted it straight-away)
QUOTE OF THE DAY (all of the following come from conversations today in the box office)
MAN: Do you have any tickets for tonight?
ME: I've only got one left.
MAN: One? You're kidding me! Well, can my girlfriend just sit in my lap?
ME: Unfortunately, no.
MAN: Who buys one ticket? Who goes alone?
ME: Well, we actually had two earlier this morning, so...someone.
MAN: Hell, maybe I should buy that other ticket. Maybe it's a lonely woman. Leave my girlfriend at home. Ha. Well, my luck it will be a gay man.
WOMAN AT WINDOW WITH BOOBS HANGING OUT A BAD FAKE TAN AND PEROXIDE BLONDE HAIR AND A LEOPARD PRINT SHIRT: Um, hi...is there a drug store in walking distance that has uh...like...that would sell...um...that would sell..like...uhh...adult products too?
WHAT I WANTED TO SAY: You mean like rubbers and lube? (Haha...that was really vulgar)
WHAT I DID SAY: There's a Jewel-Osco across the street.
WOMAN AT THE WINDOW: We, of course, have our tickets for High School Musical...
(Phone rings)
ME: Box Office, this is Amy how may I help you?
MAN ON PHONE: You're looking good today.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Spring Awakening
In case you've never seen/heard the musical. All of the music is fabulous, but this one is especially awesome. Here's the cast singing on The View:
Amazing. Yes, I realize it's basically a giant orgasm onstage, but you've gotta admit...it's a beautiful orgasm. Haha.
Damn. I wish I could sing and be in musicals.
To bad I'm tone-deaf and much too awkward.
*Sigh*
Maybe in another life.
P.S. It is a GORGEOUS day in Chicago. Absolutely perfect outside.
Amazing. Yes, I realize it's basically a giant orgasm onstage, but you've gotta admit...it's a beautiful orgasm. Haha.
Damn. I wish I could sing and be in musicals.
To bad I'm tone-deaf and much too awkward.
*Sigh*
Maybe in another life.
P.S. It is a GORGEOUS day in Chicago. Absolutely perfect outside.
And the Tony for Gayest Musical Ever Goes To...
HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL
High School Musical is so gay, I'm surprised The American Family Association hasn't boycotted it yet. But you know what? Because it is so gay and fabulous it is actually a lot of fun. I never thought I would hear myself say that. But I saw it onstage last night and it was...fun. I actually enjoyed it. I mean, it was a Disney show...so it was really cutesy (like makes you throw up in your mouth a little bit cute) and parts of it were really just...I mean...parts I rolled my eyes a little bit at the writing(think the most dramatic moment in Full House, but GAY), but some parts were actually funny. I think I liked it so much because it was so gay. Well, and it was probably made gay-er by the fact that David was sitting next to me, sipping a glass of Merlot as he watched. Gay!
I kinda wished they had a cute little coming-out-of-the-closet-lesbian-couple onstage. But they didn't. Only straight couples allowed.
...and yet still the gay was there.
Ok. So I was thinking about it. And if I were ever to direct High School Musical...I would play the gay to the hills!
-Sharpay? Would be played by a drag queen.
-Ryan? Um. We don't even have to touch that character. Gay and Gay and Gay and Gay-er! I mean, for God's sake...in the stage version I saw last night the boy was wearing a shirt made of sequins at one point!
- Kelsi? Well, based on that nice suit she's wearing in the first video, we probably don't need to touch that character and make her anymore gay than she already is, but we would probably play it up more. I'm thinking she's a suffering lesbian artist, upset because the school wouldn't greenlight her muscial, "Juliet and Rosaline" and instead made her re-write it to be, "Juliet and Romeo."
-Gabriella and Troy? Well, let's just say we change Gabriella's name to Gabe and go the extra mile and make it a story about not only loving someone for who they are not what "clique" there are in but also about GAYS! You ARE breaking free Troy and Gabe. You are breaking free from your respective cliques AND from the closet. BREAK OUT OF HETEROSEXUAL REPRESSION GABE AND TROY! BREAK FREE! SOAR! FLY! In the end, Troy gets the part of Romeo and Gabe plays the role of Juliet in drag. Fabulous.
-Every single costume (expcept for the artistically repressed Lesbian) has GLITTER!
-Every number ends with "jazz hands."
-Every number gets remixed with a techno beat and a Madonna song.
Ok, and in my quest to find High School Musical clips, I came across this MadTV parody which is pretty funny:
...Speaking of musicals...I really, really want to see Spring Awakening. No joke. Who wants to come to New York with me to see it?? Anyone? I've been listening to music lately and the music is so beautiful. Especially the song "Touch Me" which, if you've seen Rocky Horror Picture Show, is basically a more poetic version of "Touch-a Touch-a Touch Me"
Don't believe me?
EXHIBIT A "Touch-a Touch-a Touch Me" Lyric:
"Touch-a touch-a touch-a touch me
I wanna be dirty
Thrill me, chill me, fulfill me
Creature of the night"
EXHIBIT B "Touch Me" Lyric:
"Touch me – just like that
And that – o, yeah – now, that’s heaven
Now, that I like
God, that’s so nice
Now lower down, where the figs lie"
I rest my case.
Seriously though. I really want to see this musical. And since I can't really afford to go to New York, I guess I'll just have to wait until it comes here.
Please come here Spring Awakening. Please? I mean I love High School Musical and all, but...well, I want to see a show about teenage sexuality that isn't put out by Disney. Thanks.
Love,
Amy
Oh man...what if there were a show called "High School Musical's Spring Awakening"???
Hmmm...if you'll excuse me, I think I have to go write the best show ever...
High School Musical is so gay, I'm surprised The American Family Association hasn't boycotted it yet. But you know what? Because it is so gay and fabulous it is actually a lot of fun. I never thought I would hear myself say that. But I saw it onstage last night and it was...fun. I actually enjoyed it. I mean, it was a Disney show...so it was really cutesy (like makes you throw up in your mouth a little bit cute) and parts of it were really just...I mean...parts I rolled my eyes a little bit at the writing(think the most dramatic moment in Full House, but GAY), but some parts were actually funny. I think I liked it so much because it was so gay. Well, and it was probably made gay-er by the fact that David was sitting next to me, sipping a glass of Merlot as he watched. Gay!
I kinda wished they had a cute little coming-out-of-the-closet-lesbian-couple onstage. But they didn't. Only straight couples allowed.
...and yet still the gay was there.
Ok. So I was thinking about it. And if I were ever to direct High School Musical...I would play the gay to the hills!
-Sharpay? Would be played by a drag queen.
-Ryan? Um. We don't even have to touch that character. Gay and Gay and Gay and Gay-er! I mean, for God's sake...in the stage version I saw last night the boy was wearing a shirt made of sequins at one point!
- Kelsi? Well, based on that nice suit she's wearing in the first video, we probably don't need to touch that character and make her anymore gay than she already is, but we would probably play it up more. I'm thinking she's a suffering lesbian artist, upset because the school wouldn't greenlight her muscial, "Juliet and Rosaline" and instead made her re-write it to be, "Juliet and Romeo."
-Gabriella and Troy? Well, let's just say we change Gabriella's name to Gabe and go the extra mile and make it a story about not only loving someone for who they are not what "clique" there are in but also about GAYS! You ARE breaking free Troy and Gabe. You are breaking free from your respective cliques AND from the closet. BREAK OUT OF HETEROSEXUAL REPRESSION GABE AND TROY! BREAK FREE! SOAR! FLY! In the end, Troy gets the part of Romeo and Gabe plays the role of Juliet in drag. Fabulous.
-Every single costume (expcept for the artistically repressed Lesbian) has GLITTER!
-Every number ends with "jazz hands."
-Every number gets remixed with a techno beat and a Madonna song.
Ok, and in my quest to find High School Musical clips, I came across this MadTV parody which is pretty funny:
...Speaking of musicals...I really, really want to see Spring Awakening. No joke. Who wants to come to New York with me to see it?? Anyone? I've been listening to music lately and the music is so beautiful. Especially the song "Touch Me" which, if you've seen Rocky Horror Picture Show, is basically a more poetic version of "Touch-a Touch-a Touch Me"
Don't believe me?
EXHIBIT A "Touch-a Touch-a Touch Me" Lyric:
"Touch-a touch-a touch-a touch me
I wanna be dirty
Thrill me, chill me, fulfill me
Creature of the night"
EXHIBIT B "Touch Me" Lyric:
"Touch me – just like that
And that – o, yeah – now, that’s heaven
Now, that I like
God, that’s so nice
Now lower down, where the figs lie"
I rest my case.
Seriously though. I really want to see this musical. And since I can't really afford to go to New York, I guess I'll just have to wait until it comes here.
Please come here Spring Awakening. Please? I mean I love High School Musical and all, but...well, I want to see a show about teenage sexuality that isn't put out by Disney. Thanks.
Love,
Amy
Oh man...what if there were a show called "High School Musical's Spring Awakening"???
Hmmm...if you'll excuse me, I think I have to go write the best show ever...
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Don't Look Now...It's My Horse!
Hey guys, check it out...this is my horse:
I haven't decided what to name him yet. I'm thinking of calling him Carl.
I haven't decided what to name him yet. I'm thinking of calling him Carl.
What David Wouldn't Do...
An E-mail to David:
Subject: 20 million dollars, Anderson Cooper...
Email: But you have to drink curdled milk once a week for the rest of your life.
David's Reply: Absolutely not!!! UGGG! Sorry Anderson...
I would totally do it. (Well not for Anderson Cooper of course. For Natalie Portman or Kate Winslet, or I'll be honest...my own pony/horse farm where the poop magically mucked itself out of the stalls (that would be sweet).)
Sometimes you have to make sacrfices for love.
Sometimes you have to drink curdled milk once a week for the rest of your life.
I guess David just doesn't understand that.
Well, all I can say is, Natalie Portman or Kate Winslet or my future ponies/horses on my very own pony/horse farm, if you read this blog (duh, I'm sure you do, EVERYONE reads this blog) rest assured that I would drink curdled milk once a week for you.
...Man I really want a pony or a horse. Sometimes I seriously wish cars didn't exist and everyone owned and got around by horse. How awesome would that be?? And you would have to hitch your horse up outside bars or stores?? I think it would so cool if everyone owned a horse and just took their time getting everywhere. If when you passed someone by, you tipped your hat and said "Howdy" or "Good Day" (obviously how you would greet someone depends on what kind of saddle you use.) Forr example, I was taught to ride english style, so I would probably have to say, "Good Day."
Hm. Even though I was taught to ride English style, sometimes I wish I born in Montana and taught how to barrel race. I think barrel racing better suits my personality then...show jumping. Whatever. Regardless of where I was born or what kind of saddle I use, I love horses. And I wish I could ride one everywhere.
Subject: 20 million dollars, Anderson Cooper...
Email: But you have to drink curdled milk once a week for the rest of your life.
David's Reply: Absolutely not!!! UGGG! Sorry Anderson...
I would totally do it. (Well not for Anderson Cooper of course. For Natalie Portman or Kate Winslet, or I'll be honest...my own pony/horse farm where the poop magically mucked itself out of the stalls (that would be sweet).)
Sometimes you have to make sacrfices for love.
Sometimes you have to drink curdled milk once a week for the rest of your life.
I guess David just doesn't understand that.
Well, all I can say is, Natalie Portman or Kate Winslet or my future ponies/horses on my very own pony/horse farm, if you read this blog (duh, I'm sure you do, EVERYONE reads this blog) rest assured that I would drink curdled milk once a week for you.
...Man I really want a pony or a horse. Sometimes I seriously wish cars didn't exist and everyone owned and got around by horse. How awesome would that be?? And you would have to hitch your horse up outside bars or stores?? I think it would so cool if everyone owned a horse and just took their time getting everywhere. If when you passed someone by, you tipped your hat and said "Howdy" or "Good Day" (obviously how you would greet someone depends on what kind of saddle you use.) Forr example, I was taught to ride english style, so I would probably have to say, "Good Day."
Hm. Even though I was taught to ride English style, sometimes I wish I born in Montana and taught how to barrel race. I think barrel racing better suits my personality then...show jumping. Whatever. Regardless of where I was born or what kind of saddle I use, I love horses. And I wish I could ride one everywhere.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Pancake Envy
Totally ate pancakes for dinner tonight.
Jealous?
Thought so.
And it's at times like these...when I'm shoving forkfulls of pancake into my mouth, punctuating them with crisp bites of bacon, all the while sporting a chocolate-milk moustache, that I know that I am indeed very, very attractive.
My after-dinner pooj is especially round tonight. Maybe that's because I topped off the meal with some ice cream. Pancakes and ice cream make me happy inside. Really, they should just sell pancakes and ice cream together. Or IHOP should offer ice cream as a side to pancakes.
I think if I ever went to breakfast somewhere and I ordered pancakes and the waiter said, "Would you like a side of ice cream your pancakes?" I think I would think I died and went to heaven. Maybe pancakes and ice cream are such a perfect combination that you're only allowed to eat it in heaven. Like if you ate it on earth your body wouldn't be able to handle all the delicious-ness and you would just fall over and die. But hey, my feeling on that is at least you die happy. Death by pancakes and ice cream is a lot better than say, death from being hit by a bus.
Sunday, September 09, 2007
A Real Nail Biter
So I just saw this article on yahoo:
http://health.yahoo.com/news/179174
It's an article about nail-biting and this guy who has allegedly found a cure.
Alright guys, I have to fess up and admit I am an avid nail biter. If nail-biting were a recreational sport...I would win the gold medal. I know it's gross, I know it's disgusting, but I can't help it. This article mentions people who bite their toenails. Um, I draw the line there. No offense if you do chew your toenails...and I know I can't really talk since I do bite my nails but...uh...that's just wrong. The whole process of biting a toenail...you have to stick your foot close to your mouth and then...um...I'm going to stop there.
But, yes. I do bite my finger nails. I have pretty much been biting my nails for as long as I can remember. I don't really know why. According to Freud, I have an oral fixation. According to me when I was old enough to have teeth to bite my nails, I didn't want my finger nails to be long like a witch's. I don't know why I thought long finger nails = witch, but I can remember having that thought in my head as a kid. Maybe I started to bite my nails in rebellion against femininity, because I never wanted to be feminine or girl-y and nails got in the way of my everyday activities like hunting for frogs and digging up cool rocks. (Yup, I totally had a rock collection when I was a kid. I still have some of the ultra cool ones I found. This is a tangent...but I totally used to categorize them and organize them. I would put them on display in my room. I would take plastic tubs and put them on display in there too, in a "natural habitat" sort of setting. I would throw some dirt in there...a couple of plants I tore out of the ground...then I would carefully arrange the rocks, and...Viola! Natural habitat for my rocks. It may not surprise you that I, for a period, wanted to be an archaeologist. I have the fossils to prove it. My Dad is the coolest Dad ever and one time he went to the store and bought a bunch of "fossils." He buried them in the yard, and while he was working one day "unearthed" one and said, "Amy! Come here you have to see this look what I found! I wonder what else is over here..." And so I ran over and dug up all the cool rocks and fossils he put there for me to find. I was so excited and impressed. It wasn't until later that I learned that finding such a plethora of different sorts of rocks and fossils within two feet of each other was probably geologically impossible.)
Wow. What a diversion. Maybe that long-winded story is because I'm ashamed of my nail-biting and don't really want to talk about it. Well, at any rate that long winded story was just to show...you can't have long nails and dig up rocks.
And yes, like the article says my fingers are a little deformed and gross looking, and yes if there is a time were they are particularly bad or gross looking I do put my hands in my pockets or under the table or sometimes I just ball my hand into a light fist to hid my nails in social situations. Especially if I'm in a situation where people don't know me well or have never met me...I don't want people's first impression me me to be my deformed, gross looking fingers.
And yes, as any addict will say...I have tried to quit. I've tried those polishes, but I just pick the polish off first and then bite my nails. I've tried will power and failed. When I was younger my Dad would sometimes make me wear socks on my hands if I was watching TV or something. My Dad is also a nail-biter (or was...he has periods where he's "off" the nail-biting and periods of relapse) we've tried to quit together a couple of times. We've tried to make a game out of it, see who could last the longest. Didn't work. I once had an uncle offer to PAY me to stop biting my nails. Like, if by the next time he saw me, my nails were acceptable, he would give me a certain sum of money. That didn't work either.
Nail-biting is just something I do.
I do it when I'm obsessively when I'm nervous.
I do it idly when I'm not nervous.
I do it when I'm thinking.
I do it when I'm driving.
I do it when I'm watching TV.
I do it when I'm reading.
I do it when I blog (I'm doing it right now, in between typing sentences).
I do it all the time.
I don't do it as a form of self-mutilation as the article suggests some do. I do believe it could be some sort of OCD, like it says in the article though. Not to say I am OCD, or to be a hypochondriac and say "Oh my god this article says if you bite your nails you're OCD! I bite my nails, I must be OCD!!" But I do have some tendencies that I wonder about sometimes. I think everyone is a little bit OCD though about certain things.
So I bite my nails?
So I have to check and double check to make sure I've really locked doors?
So I have to leave for places much earlier than I need to assure that I'll be on time?
It doesn't make me OCD. Right? And if it does make me OCD, so what? I mean...I should be cool as long as I don't start, say, locking doors 4 times, turning lights on and off 4 times, and washing my hands 4 times right? I think the proper term for this sort of behavior is "ritualizing" and I don't think I ritualize. Ritualizing implies some sort of structure, some sort of standard that must be met. I really have no standard for chewing my nails. I just know that I must bite them, so I do.
Whatever.
I just found this article very interesting. I found it interesting that a large amount of kids bite their nails, but that they hit some point where it clicks that nail biting is bad and gross (or that there are alternate ways to deal with stress as the article says) and they stop. That never clicked for me. Hm. I wonder why. The article says only 20% of adults bite their nails. The article chalks it off to OCD type behavior, stress, and the like. But for me at least...nail-biting is something that is ingrained in me. I don't think that simply wearing a mouth guard (as is the proposed solution in the article) would stop me from biting my nails. The mouth guard would be off a week and I would be like, "oh man this nail is getting kinda out of control. I better bite it." You would probably have to zap my brain and kill the area of my brain that sends the impulse, "AMY,BITE YOUR NAILS NOW!!"
Hm.
Nail-biting.
Anyway...
QUOTE OF THE DAY
Audra (Re her cat, Mr. Bocephus): So I got him some catnip because he's been driving me nuts lately. So I just need him to have some catnip and work it out and then pass out for a few days.
http://health.yahoo.com/news/179174
It's an article about nail-biting and this guy who has allegedly found a cure.
Alright guys, I have to fess up and admit I am an avid nail biter. If nail-biting were a recreational sport...I would win the gold medal. I know it's gross, I know it's disgusting, but I can't help it. This article mentions people who bite their toenails. Um, I draw the line there. No offense if you do chew your toenails...and I know I can't really talk since I do bite my nails but...uh...that's just wrong. The whole process of biting a toenail...you have to stick your foot close to your mouth and then...um...I'm going to stop there.
But, yes. I do bite my finger nails. I have pretty much been biting my nails for as long as I can remember. I don't really know why. According to Freud, I have an oral fixation. According to me when I was old enough to have teeth to bite my nails, I didn't want my finger nails to be long like a witch's. I don't know why I thought long finger nails = witch, but I can remember having that thought in my head as a kid. Maybe I started to bite my nails in rebellion against femininity, because I never wanted to be feminine or girl-y and nails got in the way of my everyday activities like hunting for frogs and digging up cool rocks. (Yup, I totally had a rock collection when I was a kid. I still have some of the ultra cool ones I found. This is a tangent...but I totally used to categorize them and organize them. I would put them on display in my room. I would take plastic tubs and put them on display in there too, in a "natural habitat" sort of setting. I would throw some dirt in there...a couple of plants I tore out of the ground...then I would carefully arrange the rocks, and...Viola! Natural habitat for my rocks. It may not surprise you that I, for a period, wanted to be an archaeologist. I have the fossils to prove it. My Dad is the coolest Dad ever and one time he went to the store and bought a bunch of "fossils." He buried them in the yard, and while he was working one day "unearthed" one and said, "Amy! Come here you have to see this look what I found! I wonder what else is over here..." And so I ran over and dug up all the cool rocks and fossils he put there for me to find. I was so excited and impressed. It wasn't until later that I learned that finding such a plethora of different sorts of rocks and fossils within two feet of each other was probably geologically impossible.)
Wow. What a diversion. Maybe that long-winded story is because I'm ashamed of my nail-biting and don't really want to talk about it. Well, at any rate that long winded story was just to show...you can't have long nails and dig up rocks.
And yes, like the article says my fingers are a little deformed and gross looking, and yes if there is a time were they are particularly bad or gross looking I do put my hands in my pockets or under the table or sometimes I just ball my hand into a light fist to hid my nails in social situations. Especially if I'm in a situation where people don't know me well or have never met me...I don't want people's first impression me me to be my deformed, gross looking fingers.
And yes, as any addict will say...I have tried to quit. I've tried those polishes, but I just pick the polish off first and then bite my nails. I've tried will power and failed. When I was younger my Dad would sometimes make me wear socks on my hands if I was watching TV or something. My Dad is also a nail-biter (or was...he has periods where he's "off" the nail-biting and periods of relapse) we've tried to quit together a couple of times. We've tried to make a game out of it, see who could last the longest. Didn't work. I once had an uncle offer to PAY me to stop biting my nails. Like, if by the next time he saw me, my nails were acceptable, he would give me a certain sum of money. That didn't work either.
Nail-biting is just something I do.
I do it when I'm obsessively when I'm nervous.
I do it idly when I'm not nervous.
I do it when I'm thinking.
I do it when I'm driving.
I do it when I'm watching TV.
I do it when I'm reading.
I do it when I blog (I'm doing it right now, in between typing sentences).
I do it all the time.
I don't do it as a form of self-mutilation as the article suggests some do. I do believe it could be some sort of OCD, like it says in the article though. Not to say I am OCD, or to be a hypochondriac and say "Oh my god this article says if you bite your nails you're OCD! I bite my nails, I must be OCD!!" But I do have some tendencies that I wonder about sometimes. I think everyone is a little bit OCD though about certain things.
So I bite my nails?
So I have to check and double check to make sure I've really locked doors?
So I have to leave for places much earlier than I need to assure that I'll be on time?
It doesn't make me OCD. Right? And if it does make me OCD, so what? I mean...I should be cool as long as I don't start, say, locking doors 4 times, turning lights on and off 4 times, and washing my hands 4 times right? I think the proper term for this sort of behavior is "ritualizing" and I don't think I ritualize. Ritualizing implies some sort of structure, some sort of standard that must be met. I really have no standard for chewing my nails. I just know that I must bite them, so I do.
Whatever.
I just found this article very interesting. I found it interesting that a large amount of kids bite their nails, but that they hit some point where it clicks that nail biting is bad and gross (or that there are alternate ways to deal with stress as the article says) and they stop. That never clicked for me. Hm. I wonder why. The article says only 20% of adults bite their nails. The article chalks it off to OCD type behavior, stress, and the like. But for me at least...nail-biting is something that is ingrained in me. I don't think that simply wearing a mouth guard (as is the proposed solution in the article) would stop me from biting my nails. The mouth guard would be off a week and I would be like, "oh man this nail is getting kinda out of control. I better bite it." You would probably have to zap my brain and kill the area of my brain that sends the impulse, "AMY,BITE YOUR NAILS NOW!!"
Hm.
Nail-biting.
Anyway...
QUOTE OF THE DAY
Audra (Re her cat, Mr. Bocephus): So I got him some catnip because he's been driving me nuts lately. So I just need him to have some catnip and work it out and then pass out for a few days.
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Amy's Bad Ideas Episdoe #1929294000443233
So I have a lot of bad ideas.
But this one was pretty horrible.
David and I went out tonight and we went to see Halloween.
Um, I'm home alone tonight.
For a sec I was like, "Oh this could be a bad idea. I don't handle scary movies too well and I'll be going home to a dark apartment all by myself tonight."
Then I was like, "Damn Amy, you're a grown woman. Put on your big girl underwear and go see this movie with David (who really wanted to see it).
So I did.
Now, let me be honest.
I probably only saw about 3/4 of the movie. The rest of the time I spent with my hood up over my head, my eyes clenched shut and my fingers in my ears. For real. I couldn't do it. I couldn't watch it. So the good part is...I really didn't see too much of the movie to totally freak me out. But I saw enough of Mike Myers standing in the shadows with that creepy ass mask that I'm sitting here with the lights on watching SNL: The Best Of Mike Myers to remind myself that sometimes Mike Myers doesn't want to brutally murder you...sometimes he just wants to make you laugh.
Schwing!
I'm hoping if I run into Mike Myers anytime soon he will be in the guise of Wayne Campbell and not...well, the murdering one with a butcher knife.
So every noise in the apartment is making me jump. But I've just thought of something:
-Nobody ever hears Mike Myers coming. Usually by the time you hear him you don't even have time to scream. So I can rest assured that whatever noises I'm hearing are NOT Mike Myers the crazed murder. You only hear Mike Myers if Mike Myers wants you to hear Mike Myers, therefore...Mike Myers is not the refrigerator noise.
I've also realized something else:
-I am not having sex right now. I'd say about 60% of the people in the movie got murdered right before/during/right after having sex. Thankfully, I have no sex plans tonight.
Phew.
I've also realized something else:
-At least to my knowledge, I was not orphaned as a baby when my older brother went on a muderous rampage, killing all in the family but me. Therefore, I should have no older brothers out to kill me. I don't think. But I'm not sure. I know there's some shady business in our family tree. And although I know it involves crazies, hopefully they're not the murdering psychopath kind.
....anyway. Kind of want to be done talking about Mike Myers.
So while we were waiting for the movie David and I played the would-you-do-it game. Basically his questions to me were framed like this:
"Ok, 20 million dollars, Natalie Portman loves you for the rest of your life...BUT [insert something ridiculous here] would you do it?"
And my questions to him were framed as follows:
"Ok, 20 million dollars, Anderson Cooper loves you for the rest of your life..BUT [insert somethign ridiculous here] would you do it?"
Here's what we figured out:
For 20 million dollars and Natalie Portman I would...
-Not have my vision (let's face it, it's going that way anyway)
- Give my left arm
- Live with David and his boyfriend Anderson Cooper in a 2 bedroom apartment with paper thin walls for the rest of my life
For 20 million dollars and Natalie Portman I would NOT...
- Live in the closet
- Do it with a dude
- Live in the boonies of Baton Rouge, Lousinana with no internet and no ability to travel anywhere-ever.
- Let my puppy be run over by a tractor (even though David assured me it would be quick and I would not have to watch it. I couldn't do that to a puppy!)
- Live with President Bush as president of the United States for the rest of my life
- Live with President Bush as president for another term (hey, I got a responsibilty to other Americans on this one)
- Give up theatre
- Listen to Air Bud the movie 24 hours a day, six days a week for the rest of my life
When it was my turn to ask David we figured out the only thing her would NOT do for 20 million dollars and Anderson Cooper was to work in a Old People Home.
Here's a good conversation I had with David at dinner tonight
DAVID: I'm so excited for Halloween!
ME: I know!! What are you going to be??
(Pause)
(Pause)
DAVID: No...Halloween the movie.
(Pause)
ME: Oh yeah. That one we're going to see tonight.
DAVID: Good job.
NEW RULE FOR AMY IN LIFE: Amy is only allowed to see scary movies when she has someone to go home with. Hopefully, as much as as loves her gay boyfriend, David...it will be her gay girlfriend. Hopefully, it will be her Natalie Portman girlfriend:
Aw, isn't she wonderful? I bet this bitch could take Mike Myers.
Then again, maybe not...
Aw, I'm in love with her....does anyone have her number? Or an email address? Is Natalie Portman on facebook??
But this one was pretty horrible.
David and I went out tonight and we went to see Halloween.
Um, I'm home alone tonight.
For a sec I was like, "Oh this could be a bad idea. I don't handle scary movies too well and I'll be going home to a dark apartment all by myself tonight."
Then I was like, "Damn Amy, you're a grown woman. Put on your big girl underwear and go see this movie with David (who really wanted to see it).
So I did.
Now, let me be honest.
I probably only saw about 3/4 of the movie. The rest of the time I spent with my hood up over my head, my eyes clenched shut and my fingers in my ears. For real. I couldn't do it. I couldn't watch it. So the good part is...I really didn't see too much of the movie to totally freak me out. But I saw enough of Mike Myers standing in the shadows with that creepy ass mask that I'm sitting here with the lights on watching SNL: The Best Of Mike Myers to remind myself that sometimes Mike Myers doesn't want to brutally murder you...sometimes he just wants to make you laugh.
Schwing!
I'm hoping if I run into Mike Myers anytime soon he will be in the guise of Wayne Campbell and not...well, the murdering one with a butcher knife.
So every noise in the apartment is making me jump. But I've just thought of something:
-Nobody ever hears Mike Myers coming. Usually by the time you hear him you don't even have time to scream. So I can rest assured that whatever noises I'm hearing are NOT Mike Myers the crazed murder. You only hear Mike Myers if Mike Myers wants you to hear Mike Myers, therefore...Mike Myers is not the refrigerator noise.
I've also realized something else:
-I am not having sex right now. I'd say about 60% of the people in the movie got murdered right before/during/right after having sex. Thankfully, I have no sex plans tonight.
Phew.
I've also realized something else:
-At least to my knowledge, I was not orphaned as a baby when my older brother went on a muderous rampage, killing all in the family but me. Therefore, I should have no older brothers out to kill me. I don't think. But I'm not sure. I know there's some shady business in our family tree. And although I know it involves crazies, hopefully they're not the murdering psychopath kind.
....anyway. Kind of want to be done talking about Mike Myers.
So while we were waiting for the movie David and I played the would-you-do-it game. Basically his questions to me were framed like this:
"Ok, 20 million dollars, Natalie Portman loves you for the rest of your life...BUT [insert something ridiculous here] would you do it?"
And my questions to him were framed as follows:
"Ok, 20 million dollars, Anderson Cooper loves you for the rest of your life..BUT [insert somethign ridiculous here] would you do it?"
Here's what we figured out:
For 20 million dollars and Natalie Portman I would...
-Not have my vision (let's face it, it's going that way anyway)
- Give my left arm
- Live with David and his boyfriend Anderson Cooper in a 2 bedroom apartment with paper thin walls for the rest of my life
For 20 million dollars and Natalie Portman I would NOT...
- Live in the closet
- Do it with a dude
- Live in the boonies of Baton Rouge, Lousinana with no internet and no ability to travel anywhere-ever.
- Let my puppy be run over by a tractor (even though David assured me it would be quick and I would not have to watch it. I couldn't do that to a puppy!)
- Live with President Bush as president of the United States for the rest of my life
- Live with President Bush as president for another term (hey, I got a responsibilty to other Americans on this one)
- Give up theatre
- Listen to Air Bud the movie 24 hours a day, six days a week for the rest of my life
When it was my turn to ask David we figured out the only thing her would NOT do for 20 million dollars and Anderson Cooper was to work in a Old People Home.
Here's a good conversation I had with David at dinner tonight
DAVID: I'm so excited for Halloween!
ME: I know!! What are you going to be??
(Pause)
(Pause)
DAVID: No...Halloween the movie.
(Pause)
ME: Oh yeah. That one we're going to see tonight.
DAVID: Good job.
NEW RULE FOR AMY IN LIFE: Amy is only allowed to see scary movies when she has someone to go home with. Hopefully, as much as as loves her gay boyfriend, David...it will be her gay girlfriend. Hopefully, it will be her Natalie Portman girlfriend:
Aw, isn't she wonderful? I bet this bitch could take Mike Myers.
Then again, maybe not...
Aw, I'm in love with her....does anyone have her number? Or an email address? Is Natalie Portman on facebook??
Thursday, September 06, 2007
In The Words of Usher, "Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah..."
BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!!!
So I go to order a mocha from the stand in the student center today, right? So I order and I'm talking a little with the barista and this happens:
BARISTA: You're an upper-classemen, right?
WHAT I SAID: Ha, yeah.
BARISTA: I can just tell.
WHAT I WAS THINKING: The Usher Song, "Yeah" was playing in my head. Also, I contemplated doing an Usher-esque victory dance.
SHE DIDN'T ASK ME IF I WAS A LOST CHILD OR IF I WAS REALLY A STUDENT AT LOYOLA!! (It's happened to me in the caf before...someone has seriously questioned if I was a student. When I told him I was and that I was 21, he told me I looked like I was 9. Yeah, that's right 9. Throw me a freakin' bone here. 9???!!)
ANYWAY.
Barista girl knew I was an UPPER-classmen.
And I was like
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
(Right now I'm bobbing my head to Usher's phat beats. And if they're weren't so many people around right now, I'd be doing some smooth dance moves and poppin' my collar)
Oh, yeah and then to further boost my confidence...
So David and I went to dinner last night in the 'ville and we were getting desert and this girl totally kept looking at me. David said she was checking me out. And I am usually totally oblivious to any girl (the few and very very far between) that have any sort of interest in me, but I noticed it too. I kept catching her out of the corner of my eye looking right at me.
So maybe she was checking me out.
But maybe she was also trying to figure out what a 14 year old boy was doing with a big gay man.
Maybe she was staring at me because I was being slightly loud as I was a little tipsy because I had a whole ONE drink with dinner.
Seriously. I am not allowed to have alcohol. I can hold alcohol about as well as a quadra paraplegic can hold eight bags of groceries.
Whatever. The tipsy-ness wore out pretty fast. And I think I got tipsy because I didn't really eat lunch yesterday so I went to dinner on an empty stomach.
Not attractive.
I'm totally socially awkward to begin with, I'm not about to make it worse by showing the world how I get tipsy after one drink (it really even didn't take the whole thing. I was buzzed after about 1/4 of it.)
An the answer to your question,
Yes.
Yes, I am the most hardcore person on the face of the planet.
So I go to order a mocha from the stand in the student center today, right? So I order and I'm talking a little with the barista and this happens:
BARISTA: You're an upper-classemen, right?
WHAT I SAID: Ha, yeah.
BARISTA: I can just tell.
WHAT I WAS THINKING: The Usher Song, "Yeah" was playing in my head. Also, I contemplated doing an Usher-esque victory dance.
SHE DIDN'T ASK ME IF I WAS A LOST CHILD OR IF I WAS REALLY A STUDENT AT LOYOLA!! (It's happened to me in the caf before...someone has seriously questioned if I was a student. When I told him I was and that I was 21, he told me I looked like I was 9. Yeah, that's right 9. Throw me a freakin' bone here. 9???!!)
ANYWAY.
Barista girl knew I was an UPPER-classmen.
And I was like
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
(Right now I'm bobbing my head to Usher's phat beats. And if they're weren't so many people around right now, I'd be doing some smooth dance moves and poppin' my collar)
Oh, yeah and then to further boost my confidence...
So David and I went to dinner last night in the 'ville and we were getting desert and this girl totally kept looking at me. David said she was checking me out. And I am usually totally oblivious to any girl (the few and very very far between) that have any sort of interest in me, but I noticed it too. I kept catching her out of the corner of my eye looking right at me.
So maybe she was checking me out.
But maybe she was also trying to figure out what a 14 year old boy was doing with a big gay man.
Maybe she was staring at me because I was being slightly loud as I was a little tipsy because I had a whole ONE drink with dinner.
Seriously. I am not allowed to have alcohol. I can hold alcohol about as well as a quadra paraplegic can hold eight bags of groceries.
Whatever. The tipsy-ness wore out pretty fast. And I think I got tipsy because I didn't really eat lunch yesterday so I went to dinner on an empty stomach.
Not attractive.
I'm totally socially awkward to begin with, I'm not about to make it worse by showing the world how I get tipsy after one drink (it really even didn't take the whole thing. I was buzzed after about 1/4 of it.)
An the answer to your question,
Yes.
Yes, I am the most hardcore person on the face of the planet.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Stereotype-i-zations
So I was recently the victim of a gross and blatant stereotype-i-zation.
Someone asked me if I play sports. When I said no. She responded, "Oh. Wow. You just look so athletic."
Um. No. I believe the word you were searching for is leeeeeeessssssssbian. I just look so leessssssbian.
And just because I am a lesbian, doesn't mean I play sports. And I'll thank you to remember that.
I don't play sports. I am probably one of the most ill suited people to athleticism I know.
I am uncoordinated,
ungraceful, and
unconscious of my body
Do you really want me to be your wide receiver? Better yet how about the starting forward on our basketball team, because, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned
THAT I’m FIVE FEET TALL AND ABOUT 100 POUNDS (give or take a few depending on how much ice cream I’ve had that day).
Basically the only sport I probably could do with my size is gymnastics. And do you really want me prancing around in a glittery leotard and dancing with ribbons???
Didn’t think so.
Neither do I.
And sports just conjure up way too many bad memories for me to ever attempt them again. Let me paint you a picture.
In seventh grade I joined the basketball team in a lame attempt to make friends (because, yes, I was even more socially awkward than I am now and didn’t have to many friends to speak up back in junior high). I was small for my age (duh), had huge glasses that took up the entirety of my face, and my hair was always an unruly mess on the top of my head (because much to the dismay of my mother…I refused to brush it or put it in a ponytail or do anything to make it look…normal). When I joined the basketball team, they didn’t have a uniform small enough for me. Consequently, my shorts came down past my knees and my jersey sat like a potato sack on my body. Making friends looking like this, was not going to be easy. Especially because everyone else joined the basketball team TO WIN. And they all had been playing a while. I, on the other hand, did not know the difference between a “zone” defense or a “man to man” defense.
I will end the sad story of my basketball days here and spare myself further embarrassment and just say, I sat on the bench a lot.
For a long time in my life I wanted to be a jockey. I know laugh it up. It’s funny. Little Amy wearin’ silk pajamas atop a huge horse.It was a time in my life where everything just made sense.
I was nine years old
I rode horses
I was the smallest kid in my class
I seemed destine for jockey-dom
And don’t make the mistake of thinking I rode some washed up ponies! The horse I rode regularly was a retired racehorse. Heck yeah I thought I was supposed to be a jockey!
But alas, we moved back to city and away from the horses
And suddenly it made no sense to be a jockey anymore
I used to run cross country in grade school. That was easy enough for me. I was pretty fast. No coordination involved, just run around and try to be first. I never was first, but I only a little slower than the fastest girl on the team. I was GOOD. It was also at this time in my life that I ate outrageous amounts of food for really, anyone, but especially someone my size. I could easily eat two baked potatoes, two pieces of meat, a salad, and some vegetables in one dinner sitting. Hey, I needed the carbs! I was the second-best runner on the cross-country teams, folks. Not a position I took lightly.
But no sports now. Not for Amy. So while she may look athletic, she promises, she’s just a lesbian. She doesn’t play sports.
Not rugby.
Not ice hockey.
No.
Not even softball.
Someone asked me if I play sports. When I said no. She responded, "Oh. Wow. You just look so athletic."
Um. No. I believe the word you were searching for is leeeeeeessssssssbian. I just look so leessssssbian.
And just because I am a lesbian, doesn't mean I play sports. And I'll thank you to remember that.
I don't play sports. I am probably one of the most ill suited people to athleticism I know.
I am uncoordinated,
ungraceful, and
unconscious of my body
Do you really want me to be your wide receiver? Better yet how about the starting forward on our basketball team, because, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned
THAT I’m FIVE FEET TALL AND ABOUT 100 POUNDS (give or take a few depending on how much ice cream I’ve had that day).
Basically the only sport I probably could do with my size is gymnastics. And do you really want me prancing around in a glittery leotard and dancing with ribbons???
Didn’t think so.
Neither do I.
And sports just conjure up way too many bad memories for me to ever attempt them again. Let me paint you a picture.
In seventh grade I joined the basketball team in a lame attempt to make friends (because, yes, I was even more socially awkward than I am now and didn’t have to many friends to speak up back in junior high). I was small for my age (duh), had huge glasses that took up the entirety of my face, and my hair was always an unruly mess on the top of my head (because much to the dismay of my mother…I refused to brush it or put it in a ponytail or do anything to make it look…normal). When I joined the basketball team, they didn’t have a uniform small enough for me. Consequently, my shorts came down past my knees and my jersey sat like a potato sack on my body. Making friends looking like this, was not going to be easy. Especially because everyone else joined the basketball team TO WIN. And they all had been playing a while. I, on the other hand, did not know the difference between a “zone” defense or a “man to man” defense.
I will end the sad story of my basketball days here and spare myself further embarrassment and just say, I sat on the bench a lot.
For a long time in my life I wanted to be a jockey. I know laugh it up. It’s funny. Little Amy wearin’ silk pajamas atop a huge horse.It was a time in my life where everything just made sense.
I was nine years old
I rode horses
I was the smallest kid in my class
I seemed destine for jockey-dom
And don’t make the mistake of thinking I rode some washed up ponies! The horse I rode regularly was a retired racehorse. Heck yeah I thought I was supposed to be a jockey!
But alas, we moved back to city and away from the horses
And suddenly it made no sense to be a jockey anymore
I used to run cross country in grade school. That was easy enough for me. I was pretty fast. No coordination involved, just run around and try to be first. I never was first, but I only a little slower than the fastest girl on the team. I was GOOD. It was also at this time in my life that I ate outrageous amounts of food for really, anyone, but especially someone my size. I could easily eat two baked potatoes, two pieces of meat, a salad, and some vegetables in one dinner sitting. Hey, I needed the carbs! I was the second-best runner on the cross-country teams, folks. Not a position I took lightly.
But no sports now. Not for Amy. So while she may look athletic, she promises, she’s just a lesbian. She doesn’t play sports.
Not rugby.
Not ice hockey.
No.
Not even softball.
Amy In The Strange Land of Sleep
So the other night I went to bed pretty early, around 10:15. And I fell asleep pretty quickly.
So, my alarm rings. Or so I think it does. I think it's morning and my alarm is ringing and I'm really sad I have to get out of bed. But I realize in my foggy haze of sleep that in fact my phone is ringing and it's only 11:00 at night.
Ok, look...I cannot be accountable for the things I say and do when I'm half asleep. And I must have been woken out of a really deep sleep because here's what I remember happening:
I realize my phone is ringing and immediately move to silence it. I look at the caller ID and it's a number I don't recognize. It's a 312 area code. So after silencing it I watch it ring for a second or two. I remember feeling somewhat paranoid about the fact I didn't know the number, that I didn't know who was calling. So I answer the phone. And at least from what I remember, I don't remember saying ANYTHING. What I remember is, I just picked up the phone and didn't say a word. I listened for a few seconds, got even MORE paranoid and hung up. So whoever was on the other line was probably subject to some creepy heavy breathing into the reciever. Like I said, I was totally foggy so I could have said something, but I don't remember. All I can say is, if you were the poor soul who called me, I'm really sorry. I'm not creepy or weird when I'm awake, just when I'm half asleep.
I get really weird when I sleep.
Like last night. I had a dream. Well, not really a dream it was more like a nightmare. And I truly do hesitate to share my dreams in my blog because I worry that people will think I'm totally insance and I will have no more friends. But I'm going to share it because it's also kind of funny.
So where I live my room is right next to the living room. There is no overhead light or fan in the living room. Remember this.
So I'm having this dream where I am in my living room and see there's a fan. Which is not all together strange, it was sort of the accepted reality of the dream that there was a fan in the room, but it also was an accepted reality that there was in overhead light in this room. Suddenly, a light fixture on the fan turns on. I find it strange, but think it must just suddenly work.
Ok.
So.
In my dream...I WAKE UP from this dream. I think it was kind of stange and funny because I know there's no overhead light in that room. So I look towards my door and I can see a light glowing from underneath the crack. I walk out into the living room to realize the overhead fixture is on. Unlike in the dream, this freaks me out because I know that the overhead light isn't supposed to work. Scared, I unplug it. It goes out, I go towards the door of my room, but before I can get through the door...the overhead light flicks back on.
I KNOW! SCARY! RIGHT?
So what I remember is I just decide to ingnore it, thinking it must be an electrical short somewhere or something. I get into bed and sleep for a while, then wake up again and my clock says 7:30. My alarm didn't go off or anything...I realize the TV is on in the living room. I got out there and EVERY light in my house is on.
So I go back in my room and for whatever reason, lay down again. I leave my door open a crack and I can hear and see things (shadows, whatever) moving past the door. The TV is really loud, music is playing, it's an all out poltergeist PARTY outside my door.
I remember a conversation I had with my aunt where she told me if you don't want to be contacted or open to things from "the other side" you just have to ask them to go away or say you don't want it. (Which is a conversation we actually did have). Ok, so I decide I'm just going to go out there and tell them to go away.
Ha.
So I walk outside my room and suddenly everything stops. There's silence. I look around and see my front door is open. Standing my the door is a small, gnome like creature wearing a glow in the dark skull mask (Seriously, no joke. Has anyone jumped ship yet on being my friend? I swear to God I'm not crazy). The thing is, even though this little dude is evil or whatever, he's made of plastic. Kind of like a bad halloween decoartion.
So what do I do?
I run to the door and scream (or I wanted to scream it didn't come out as a scream in my dream and I can remember thinking I wanted to scream but I wasn't able to). So I try to scream but just end up saying, "I don't want you!!!!" And then I kick the thing out the door and down the stairs.
So now this gnome/plastic halloween decoration is lying on its side half way down the stairs. "I don't want you." I tell it again.
It's looking at me.
Suddenly, my dog Molly appears at the top of the stairs. I run towards her and tell her to get back inside. She's barking madly. I get her inside, and when I turn around the gnome/halloween decoration is standing at the top of the stairs. I kick it down the stairs again.
Then I woke up.
Like, woke up for real. I was SO freaked out. I looked at my door and expected to see light or things moving. I looked at my clock and expected it to be 7:30. It wasn't. It was 4:30. Which was almost worse because it meant I had to try and go back to sleep.
Seriously it took me like 40 minutes to fall back asleep. I couldn't turn around and not face the door. I kept expecting at any moment to hear the TV click on or see a light go on somewhere.
I managed to fall asleep and woke up again at 7:00 this morning, glad it was morning and that I could get out of bed.
Those are my stories about Strange Amy in the Strange Land of Sleep. Hope nobody thinks I'm crazy.
So, my alarm rings. Or so I think it does. I think it's morning and my alarm is ringing and I'm really sad I have to get out of bed. But I realize in my foggy haze of sleep that in fact my phone is ringing and it's only 11:00 at night.
Ok, look...I cannot be accountable for the things I say and do when I'm half asleep. And I must have been woken out of a really deep sleep because here's what I remember happening:
I realize my phone is ringing and immediately move to silence it. I look at the caller ID and it's a number I don't recognize. It's a 312 area code. So after silencing it I watch it ring for a second or two. I remember feeling somewhat paranoid about the fact I didn't know the number, that I didn't know who was calling. So I answer the phone. And at least from what I remember, I don't remember saying ANYTHING. What I remember is, I just picked up the phone and didn't say a word. I listened for a few seconds, got even MORE paranoid and hung up. So whoever was on the other line was probably subject to some creepy heavy breathing into the reciever. Like I said, I was totally foggy so I could have said something, but I don't remember. All I can say is, if you were the poor soul who called me, I'm really sorry. I'm not creepy or weird when I'm awake, just when I'm half asleep.
I get really weird when I sleep.
Like last night. I had a dream. Well, not really a dream it was more like a nightmare. And I truly do hesitate to share my dreams in my blog because I worry that people will think I'm totally insance and I will have no more friends. But I'm going to share it because it's also kind of funny.
So where I live my room is right next to the living room. There is no overhead light or fan in the living room. Remember this.
So I'm having this dream where I am in my living room and see there's a fan. Which is not all together strange, it was sort of the accepted reality of the dream that there was a fan in the room, but it also was an accepted reality that there was in overhead light in this room. Suddenly, a light fixture on the fan turns on. I find it strange, but think it must just suddenly work.
Ok.
So.
In my dream...I WAKE UP from this dream. I think it was kind of stange and funny because I know there's no overhead light in that room. So I look towards my door and I can see a light glowing from underneath the crack. I walk out into the living room to realize the overhead fixture is on. Unlike in the dream, this freaks me out because I know that the overhead light isn't supposed to work. Scared, I unplug it. It goes out, I go towards the door of my room, but before I can get through the door...the overhead light flicks back on.
I KNOW! SCARY! RIGHT?
So what I remember is I just decide to ingnore it, thinking it must be an electrical short somewhere or something. I get into bed and sleep for a while, then wake up again and my clock says 7:30. My alarm didn't go off or anything...I realize the TV is on in the living room. I got out there and EVERY light in my house is on.
So I go back in my room and for whatever reason, lay down again. I leave my door open a crack and I can hear and see things (shadows, whatever) moving past the door. The TV is really loud, music is playing, it's an all out poltergeist PARTY outside my door.
I remember a conversation I had with my aunt where she told me if you don't want to be contacted or open to things from "the other side" you just have to ask them to go away or say you don't want it. (Which is a conversation we actually did have). Ok, so I decide I'm just going to go out there and tell them to go away.
Ha.
So I walk outside my room and suddenly everything stops. There's silence. I look around and see my front door is open. Standing my the door is a small, gnome like creature wearing a glow in the dark skull mask (Seriously, no joke. Has anyone jumped ship yet on being my friend? I swear to God I'm not crazy). The thing is, even though this little dude is evil or whatever, he's made of plastic. Kind of like a bad halloween decoartion.
So what do I do?
I run to the door and scream (or I wanted to scream it didn't come out as a scream in my dream and I can remember thinking I wanted to scream but I wasn't able to). So I try to scream but just end up saying, "I don't want you!!!!" And then I kick the thing out the door and down the stairs.
So now this gnome/plastic halloween decoration is lying on its side half way down the stairs. "I don't want you." I tell it again.
It's looking at me.
Suddenly, my dog Molly appears at the top of the stairs. I run towards her and tell her to get back inside. She's barking madly. I get her inside, and when I turn around the gnome/halloween decoration is standing at the top of the stairs. I kick it down the stairs again.
Then I woke up.
Like, woke up for real. I was SO freaked out. I looked at my door and expected to see light or things moving. I looked at my clock and expected it to be 7:30. It wasn't. It was 4:30. Which was almost worse because it meant I had to try and go back to sleep.
Seriously it took me like 40 minutes to fall back asleep. I couldn't turn around and not face the door. I kept expecting at any moment to hear the TV click on or see a light go on somewhere.
I managed to fall asleep and woke up again at 7:00 this morning, glad it was morning and that I could get out of bed.
Those are my stories about Strange Amy in the Strange Land of Sleep. Hope nobody thinks I'm crazy.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Ok. Seriously?
So I'm waiting for the bus this morning at Clark and Devon, right? I'm on my way to school, so I got my backpack and stuff. So this Asian lady walks up to the bus stop. She stands right next to me and out of nowhere goes:
ASIAN LADY: You go to school?
ME: (I smile) Yeah, I'm on my way there now.
ASIAN LADY: (Nodding) Oh. What high school?
ME: Oh, actually I go to Loyola University. It's just right down Devon.
ASIAN LADY: Oh. You young.
Once again...I got a long way to go until I'm 40 and enjoy getting told I look young. Right now, getting mistaken for a high schooler is not on my list of things to do.
Also, on the bus today I became best friends with a scary looking old lady. She was wearing a babushka and had painted on eyebrows and long reddish-dyed hair. When I got on the bus it was a little crowded so I was standing and someone was sitting next to the old lady. Well, a bunch of people got off including the person sitting next to her, and there was still maybe one other person standing and since I didn't have far to go, I remained standing too.
But then the old lady starts beckoning me to sit next to her. At first I try to pretend I don't see her, because she's missing some teeth and might be in turn missing s few marbles. But she beckons me again and I clearly see her this time, so what am I supposed to do?
Say, "No, I don't want to sit next to you." to an old lady? And I thought about it and could see my Grandpa doing something like this too, so I decided to go sit next to her.
So I sit down.
ME: Thank you.
OLD LADY WITH PAINTED EYEBROWS: Lovely day isn't it?
ME: Oh it's gorgeous out.
OLD LADY WITH PAINTED EYEBROWS: Have you seen the Red Eye? (Showing me Red Eye)
ME: Uh, no.
OLD LADY WITH PAINTED EYEBROWS: Would you like to look at it? (Giving it to me)
ME: Oh, uh...sure. Thank you.
(I start to glance through it to be polite)
OLD LADY WITH PAINTED EYEBROWS: I just looked at the pictures. I don't have my glasses so I can't read it. You know, my reading glasses? I didn't forget them they're just broken. And you know how you put things off that you should do?
ME: Oh, sure.
OLD LADY WITH PAINTED EYEBROWS: Well I've been putting off getting them fixed. All I have to go is take them to the Walgreen’s right by my house and get them fixed. I don't even have to take them to the doctor or anything. All it is is a little screw, but I keep putting it off. So I can't read the Red Eye.
ME: Oh. Yeah. I put things off like that sometimes too.
(Pause. I look through the Red Eye some more)
OLD LADY WITH PAINTED EYEBROWS: You can keep that.
ME: Oh, thanks.
OLD LADY WITH PAINTED EYEBROWS: Yeah I don't want to carry it with me to the doctor's.
ME: Oh, ok. Thanks.
(Silence. I look through it some more. It's my stop)
ME: Bye. Have a good day.
OLD LADY WITH PAINTED EYEBROWS: Have a good day!
Oh, me and the old lady with painted eyebrows are BFFs. Or maybe she was hitting on me. I was looking super hot this morning in my tank top and cargo shorts and disheveled hair.
QUOTE OF THE DAY
(Poster seen on the back of a bus)
POSTER: Syphilis is back. When was your last test?
ASIAN LADY: You go to school?
ME: (I smile) Yeah, I'm on my way there now.
ASIAN LADY: (Nodding) Oh. What high school?
ME: Oh, actually I go to Loyola University. It's just right down Devon.
ASIAN LADY: Oh. You young.
Once again...I got a long way to go until I'm 40 and enjoy getting told I look young. Right now, getting mistaken for a high schooler is not on my list of things to do.
Also, on the bus today I became best friends with a scary looking old lady. She was wearing a babushka and had painted on eyebrows and long reddish-dyed hair. When I got on the bus it was a little crowded so I was standing and someone was sitting next to the old lady. Well, a bunch of people got off including the person sitting next to her, and there was still maybe one other person standing and since I didn't have far to go, I remained standing too.
But then the old lady starts beckoning me to sit next to her. At first I try to pretend I don't see her, because she's missing some teeth and might be in turn missing s few marbles. But she beckons me again and I clearly see her this time, so what am I supposed to do?
Say, "No, I don't want to sit next to you." to an old lady? And I thought about it and could see my Grandpa doing something like this too, so I decided to go sit next to her.
So I sit down.
ME: Thank you.
OLD LADY WITH PAINTED EYEBROWS: Lovely day isn't it?
ME: Oh it's gorgeous out.
OLD LADY WITH PAINTED EYEBROWS: Have you seen the Red Eye? (Showing me Red Eye)
ME: Uh, no.
OLD LADY WITH PAINTED EYEBROWS: Would you like to look at it? (Giving it to me)
ME: Oh, uh...sure. Thank you.
(I start to glance through it to be polite)
OLD LADY WITH PAINTED EYEBROWS: I just looked at the pictures. I don't have my glasses so I can't read it. You know, my reading glasses? I didn't forget them they're just broken. And you know how you put things off that you should do?
ME: Oh, sure.
OLD LADY WITH PAINTED EYEBROWS: Well I've been putting off getting them fixed. All I have to go is take them to the Walgreen’s right by my house and get them fixed. I don't even have to take them to the doctor or anything. All it is is a little screw, but I keep putting it off. So I can't read the Red Eye.
ME: Oh. Yeah. I put things off like that sometimes too.
(Pause. I look through the Red Eye some more)
OLD LADY WITH PAINTED EYEBROWS: You can keep that.
ME: Oh, thanks.
OLD LADY WITH PAINTED EYEBROWS: Yeah I don't want to carry it with me to the doctor's.
ME: Oh, ok. Thanks.
(Silence. I look through it some more. It's my stop)
ME: Bye. Have a good day.
OLD LADY WITH PAINTED EYEBROWS: Have a good day!
Oh, me and the old lady with painted eyebrows are BFFs. Or maybe she was hitting on me. I was looking super hot this morning in my tank top and cargo shorts and disheveled hair.
QUOTE OF THE DAY
(Poster seen on the back of a bus)
POSTER: Syphilis is back. When was your last test?
Monday, September 03, 2007
12 or 13 And A Long Way To Go Till I'm 40
Ok. So I went to my cousin's wedding the other day.
And I'm not messing around when I say...I looked pretty fly.
...or so I thought.
I was wearing a sweet black suit with a light blue collared dress shirt underneath, I did my hair complete with gel and all. AND instead of wearing my Harry Potter glasses (which I hate) I endangered my life and put on a really old prescription (like 8th grade old) just so I could wear my silver frames. Because silver frames went much better with the look I was trying to accomplish. I was trying to accomplish a Justin Timberlake, bringin' sexyback kinda look...not Harry Potter dressed up like a muggle going to an 8th grade dance.
So I thought I looked pretty good when I walked out the door. Apparently though, I failed.
No joke, I am not out the door 10 minutes before my "hey I'm lookin' fly" attitude got knocked down to a "Jesus, I'm going to look like a 13 year old for the rest of my life" sorta attitude really fast.
So here's what happened: my bro and me are rolling to the wedding in our ultra-pimp ride (Subaru Forester). We're rolling low listening to some phat beats (93 XRT). And we're stuck at a stoplight. That day, there were people out collecting money for something. Most of the time, I give 'em my change or a dollar or something, but as I was concentrating on looking fly...I tried not to make eye contact as the man came by my window.
This man had other ideas. He stops outside my window and is staring at me looking very incredulous. He's saying things to me I can't hear, and continues to act in a manner of utter disbelief and shock. He motions for me to roll down my window, so I do just a crack. The following conversation ensues:
MAN AT MY WINDOW: How old are you???!!
ME: Uh, I'm 21.
MAN AT MY WINDOW: What??! Are you serious? You look like you're 12 or 13!!!
ME: Yeah, I get that a lot.
MAN AT THE WINDOW: I bet you do.
I roll up my window. Ok, jerk...not a good way to go about getting a dollar from me. Thanks for taking my "hey I'm lookin' fly" attitude and beating it with a stick.
Everyone tells me I'll like it when I'm 40 and look like I'm 30. Maybe I will. But I've got a LONG way to go before I turn 40. And it's one thing to be 21 years old and have people card you all the time-or look at your ID to you to your ID to you like you're trying to pull a fast one. It's one thing to be 21 and be mistaken for an 18 year old or even a 16 year old. But come on??
13??!!
12???????????????
Really?????
Well, at least it gives me something to laugh about.
So as soon as I get one I'm going to post a picture of me from the wedding and I'm going to take a poll:
Is Amy...
a) Bringing Sexyback
b) 12 or 13
c) Bringing Sexyback to the junior high dance
THEN...the drama continues...
So the bartender at the wedding kept calling me "guy" like..."Hey guy, what can I get for you?" I guess I made the mistake of ordering diet cokes first instead of cocktails, but in case you haven't already gathered, I'm small and I have to pace myself when it comes to the alcohol. PLUS somehow I got to be the designated driver so my brother could have a drink even though he's only 18. How did it work out that I, the legal one, got the shaft of being the DD so my underage brother could have a drink???
ANYWAY
So I order a couple diet cokes from the bartender, each time I go up he's like, "What can I get you guy?"
Which, hey, I get that I don't look typically feminine and I don't mind if people are mistake me for a dude from time to time. But he kept saying this to me each time I went up and "What can I get you guy?" Is like one step a way from being called "Big Guy" or "Shooter" or "Cowboy." If anyone called me any of those things...I would probably punch their lights out.
SO
Finally I decide it's time for Amy to have her cocktail (well times to be right before the dancing started) and she orders a Cranberry and Vodka and against her better judgment, a Rum and Coke for her underage brother. So the bartender asks to see my ID. There are two of them back there and it the two of them to look at it.
BARTENDER NUMBER 1: Amy....
ME: Yup.
BARTENDER NUMBER 2: April?
ME: No, I'm Amy.
BARTENDER NUMBER 1: No, your birthday...
ME: (Looking confused) No...
BARTENDER NUMBER 2: Oh, January. I see now. The light is bad back here is bad.
BARTENDER NUMBER 1: January 1st, huh?
ME: Yup.
BARTENDER NUMBER 2: 1986, huh? Just made it by couple months.
BARTENDER NUMBER 1: 1986...just made it...
WHAT??? Is this a goddamn interrogation? No, I didn't just make it by a couple months. I'm 21 goddamn years old. I'm legal. Give me my drink and shut you mouth. It's not like I'm coming up here every 10 minutes downing martini after martini.
And you better not call me "Big Guy" if you value your life...
Ha.
I go back like an hour later and the same thing...
"What can I get you guy?"
What I should have asked for was shot of whiskey and a can of beer. Then I should have shot the whiskey, wiped my mouth with my sleeve, then downed the can of beer in one gulp and crushed the can on my forehead.
What I actually did ask for was another diet coke...
And I'm not messing around when I say...I looked pretty fly.
...or so I thought.
I was wearing a sweet black suit with a light blue collared dress shirt underneath, I did my hair complete with gel and all. AND instead of wearing my Harry Potter glasses (which I hate) I endangered my life and put on a really old prescription (like 8th grade old) just so I could wear my silver frames. Because silver frames went much better with the look I was trying to accomplish. I was trying to accomplish a Justin Timberlake, bringin' sexyback kinda look...not Harry Potter dressed up like a muggle going to an 8th grade dance.
So I thought I looked pretty good when I walked out the door. Apparently though, I failed.
No joke, I am not out the door 10 minutes before my "hey I'm lookin' fly" attitude got knocked down to a "Jesus, I'm going to look like a 13 year old for the rest of my life" sorta attitude really fast.
So here's what happened: my bro and me are rolling to the wedding in our ultra-pimp ride (Subaru Forester). We're rolling low listening to some phat beats (93 XRT). And we're stuck at a stoplight. That day, there were people out collecting money for something. Most of the time, I give 'em my change or a dollar or something, but as I was concentrating on looking fly...I tried not to make eye contact as the man came by my window.
This man had other ideas. He stops outside my window and is staring at me looking very incredulous. He's saying things to me I can't hear, and continues to act in a manner of utter disbelief and shock. He motions for me to roll down my window, so I do just a crack. The following conversation ensues:
MAN AT MY WINDOW: How old are you???!!
ME: Uh, I'm 21.
MAN AT MY WINDOW: What??! Are you serious? You look like you're 12 or 13!!!
ME: Yeah, I get that a lot.
MAN AT THE WINDOW: I bet you do.
I roll up my window. Ok, jerk...not a good way to go about getting a dollar from me. Thanks for taking my "hey I'm lookin' fly" attitude and beating it with a stick.
Everyone tells me I'll like it when I'm 40 and look like I'm 30. Maybe I will. But I've got a LONG way to go before I turn 40. And it's one thing to be 21 years old and have people card you all the time-or look at your ID to you to your ID to you like you're trying to pull a fast one. It's one thing to be 21 and be mistaken for an 18 year old or even a 16 year old. But come on??
13??!!
12???????????????
Really?????
Well, at least it gives me something to laugh about.
So as soon as I get one I'm going to post a picture of me from the wedding and I'm going to take a poll:
Is Amy...
a) Bringing Sexyback
b) 12 or 13
c) Bringing Sexyback to the junior high dance
THEN...the drama continues...
So the bartender at the wedding kept calling me "guy" like..."Hey guy, what can I get for you?" I guess I made the mistake of ordering diet cokes first instead of cocktails, but in case you haven't already gathered, I'm small and I have to pace myself when it comes to the alcohol. PLUS somehow I got to be the designated driver so my brother could have a drink even though he's only 18. How did it work out that I, the legal one, got the shaft of being the DD so my underage brother could have a drink???
ANYWAY
So I order a couple diet cokes from the bartender, each time I go up he's like, "What can I get you guy?"
Which, hey, I get that I don't look typically feminine and I don't mind if people are mistake me for a dude from time to time. But he kept saying this to me each time I went up and "What can I get you guy?" Is like one step a way from being called "Big Guy" or "Shooter" or "Cowboy." If anyone called me any of those things...I would probably punch their lights out.
SO
Finally I decide it's time for Amy to have her cocktail (well times to be right before the dancing started) and she orders a Cranberry and Vodka and against her better judgment, a Rum and Coke for her underage brother. So the bartender asks to see my ID. There are two of them back there and it the two of them to look at it.
BARTENDER NUMBER 1: Amy....
ME: Yup.
BARTENDER NUMBER 2: April?
ME: No, I'm Amy.
BARTENDER NUMBER 1: No, your birthday...
ME: (Looking confused) No...
BARTENDER NUMBER 2: Oh, January. I see now. The light is bad back here is bad.
BARTENDER NUMBER 1: January 1st, huh?
ME: Yup.
BARTENDER NUMBER 2: 1986, huh? Just made it by couple months.
BARTENDER NUMBER 1: 1986...just made it...
WHAT??? Is this a goddamn interrogation? No, I didn't just make it by a couple months. I'm 21 goddamn years old. I'm legal. Give me my drink and shut you mouth. It's not like I'm coming up here every 10 minutes downing martini after martini.
And you better not call me "Big Guy" if you value your life...
Ha.
I go back like an hour later and the same thing...
"What can I get you guy?"
What I should have asked for was shot of whiskey and a can of beer. Then I should have shot the whiskey, wiped my mouth with my sleeve, then downed the can of beer in one gulp and crushed the can on my forehead.
What I actually did ask for was another diet coke...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
